It Started in the Parkade
by Jahnick
Summary: Horatio’s down in the police parkade and Calleigh gets it all wrong. Can she forgive herself for the string of mistakes that puts Horatio’s life in jeopardy?
1. Parkade

Title: It Started in the Parkade

Author: Jahnick

Disclaimer: Obviously the characters belong to CBS. If they belonged to me, they'd behave like this.

Rating: **T** for language and adult situations.

Summary: Horatio's down in the police parkade and Calleigh gets it all wrong. Can she forgive herself for the string of mistakes that puts Horatio's life in jeopardy?

Author's Note: Absolutely nothing about the third or fourth season of CSI:M has inspired so much as a sentence. I'm done with characters that I dislike, a Horatio who's stiff as a board and a Calleigh who never ever smiles. Something is missing and since CBS shows no sign of ever finding it perhaps my own Horatio can. It's time to go back to my roots in season one and see if I can salvage something of the relationship I used to cherish so much. I also used to enjoy the duo's interaction with Alexx and I intend to play with that a little, too. All reviews by fellow writers/readers are joyously considered. Thanks to Blue for the beta work and Corine, I would LUV your feedback. Enjoy!

_**hc hc hc**_

_"Horatio!"_

The scream tore Calleigh's throat. He was the entire length of the police parking garage away from her, sprawled awkwardly on the concrete next to the CSI Hummer. The red hair and today's gray silk suit left no doubt in Calleigh's mind as to his identity.

She was out of the elevator before the doors were fully open, running without a single thought except for reaching him. Later it would dawn on her that the perp might still have been there, that she could have been in real danger herself. In the actual moment none of that mattered. Calleigh didn't bother to clear the area or draw her weapon, she just pelted towards him watching helplessly as he tried to get to his feet and sank back down again and again.

Finally she was close enough to reach out and put a hand on his shoulder. "Horatio, stay down," she pleaded. "I'll call for help."

Thank God now that she was there he quit trying to stand, but he did manage to halfway sit up and slide over far enough to prop himself against a concrete pillar. Calleigh tried to keep him still with one hand while juggling her cell phone in the other. When she flipped the phone open, though, Horatio reached across and closed his hand around hers, smoothly snapping it shut.

"I'm okay, Cal," he reassured her. "I dont need an ambulance."

Calleigh frowned doubtfully. He was speaking clearly but she could tell he was having trouble focusing.

"Honestly, I'm just a little dizzy," he protested, his hand still closed around hers, preventing her from dialing. "Give me a minute, I'll be fine."

Calleigh looked him over closely. Blood was tricking from a shallow wound on his temple but otherwise he appeared to be intact.

"You're sure? You're not hurt anywhere else?"

"I'm sure," he smiled at her. "Just my head."

"Okay. For now," she relented. "But Alexx is upstairs and that's one call I _am_ making. She gets final say -- no arguments."

"No arguments." He leaned back with a sigh and closed his eyes as Calleigh hit her speed dial. It took a few rings -- expected since the M.E. had to extricate herself from an autopsy in order to pick up -- but Alexx didnt even get the chance to say hello. Calleigh was already talking.

"Alexx, Horatio's been hurt," she blurted out. "In the parkade, his spot."

Calleigh could tell from the background sounds that Alexx was all ready moving. "How badly?" the M.E. asked breathlessly.

"A head wound," Calleigh reported, "but it's shallow and he's conscious. I just got here, I'm hanging up. Hurry, Alexx."

As if Alexx wouldn't hurry. The blonde CSI rolled her eyes and placed her cell phone carefully on the concrete floor within easy reach. While they waited she found the first aid kit neatly stowed in Horatios Hummer. Pushing the red hair gently away from his face she checked for any other sources of bleeding and then pressed a telfa pad on the furrow scored across his temple just below the hairline. "What happened?" she asked softly. "Who did this?"

Horatio started to shake his head, winced and held still. "Don't talk if it hurts you," Calleigh cautioned him.

"No, it's fine." Horatio took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Whoever it was ... didn't come close enough for me to get a good look. He shot from over by the exit." Horatio gestured weakly with his hand.

"Shot?" Calleigh sucked in a sharp, surprised breath. "I thought you got hit on the head. Someone _shot_ you?"

"Mmm hmm. Lucky for me he must have skipped target practice this morning." Horatio sighed. "I did pass out for awhile though." His voice drifted just a bit and Calleigh began to seriously worry. He seemed paler and he wasn't focusing on her face anymore. Maybe she should have called for Rescue after all.

"Shhh. Just rest, Horatio. Lean your head back." Calleigh held the telfa pad in place with her thumb and slipped her fingers behind his head so it wouldnt be resting against cold, hard concrete. She noticed perspiration beading on his upper lip as she undid the second button of his teal green shirt. Deciding to call 911 after all, Calleigh was just reaching for her cell when the glint of overhead fluorescents on moving metal let her know that the elevator doors were opening. Alexx came running across the concrete towards them, black hair flying and silver case in hand. She knelt down next to the Hummer at Horatio's other side.

He opened his eyes and squinted. "Hi, Alexx."

"Horatio. Now what have you gone and done to yourself?" she scolded, a fond smile spreading across her face.

"Bullet graze on the temple," Calleigh supplied. "Otherwise he says he's fine."

"Oh he does, does he? Well, how about I figure that out for myself?" Alexx took a peek underneath the telfa pad and immediately dismissed the shallow cut. Instead she cupped Horatios face gently between her hands and concentrated on his eyes. "Look at me, honey. Both eyes. Wide open."

As Horatio did his best to focus even Calleigh could tell that one of his pupils was dilated more than the other. Now why hadn't she noticed that earlier? Alexx moved her fingers slowly through the red hair towards the back of his head where Calleigh hadn't thought to check. The M.E. probed tenderly until Horatio suddenly flinched.

"How'd you get this lump?" Alexx asked, gently exploring the area. "There's a lot of swelling."

"Uhh ... I cracked my head when I went down," Horatio admitted sheepishly. "Best guess on the concrete barrier."

Calleigh heard a disgusted growl deep down in Alexx's throat. "He has a concussion," the M.E. reported to Calleigh, ignoring Horatio altogether, "and quite possibly a skull fracture. Call an ambulance, Calleigh". Anticipating Horatios reaction Alexx all ready had the palm of her hand pressed flat against his chest. "Horatio, you are _not_ moving. Do I make myself clear?""

"Oh dear Lord," Calleighs voice wavered as she waited for the emergency operator to come on the line. "I should have called right away."

"Whoa." Alexx lay a hand on Calleighs arm. "Its okay, sugar," she reassured, "it's just a precaution. I don't want him standing up until he's been checked at the hospital but he's perfectly stable at the moment."

The 911 operator answered finally and Calleigh switched her attention to providing the details. A uniformed officer appeared and, under Alexxs direction, used the M.E.'s cell phone to call Eric's number. Calleigh hung up her 911 call just as Delko answered. Listening as the uniform gave Eric the details she knew that he would contact Tripp and they would begin investigating the shooting immediately. Alexx was looking after Horatio. He was pale and shaky but awake and talking. Things were under control. Calleigh tried to get herself the same way.

"I'm going to start an IV," Alexx told her, reaching for her kit and then turning back as she took in Calleighs expression. "Calleigh," she said softly, "everything's fine, sugar. The paramedics will want to get fluids going, I'll just jump start the process and save some time. Talk to him, okay? Make sure he stays awake?"

"Not a problem. In fact, I'd like to get up," Horatio volunteered, a little unsteadily.

Alexx raised her eyebrows. "I'll just bet you would, honey, but it ain't gonna happen. Not in the short term, anyway."

Horatio's lips curved upward in a faint shadow of a smile and, much to everyone's relief, he relaxed back down. As Alexx prepared the IV Calleigh made small talk, cradled the back of Horatio's head and watched his responses closely. She was pleased to see a small flinch of protest when Alexx slipped the needle in and taped it in securely in place on the back of his hand.

The sound of sirens and slamming doors flooded the underground space as Rescue arrived in record time with an ambulance impatiently crowding its' bumper. Calleigh was vaguely aware of a steadily increasing sea of uniforms surrounding them and yellow police tape was all ready going up as paramedics checked Horatio's vitals, fitted a neck brace and strapped him cautiously to a backboard.

The ride to the hospital lasted forever. Horatio took an unexpected turn for the worse, drifting in and out of consciousness. His breathing suddenly became erratic. After shakily taking in a small amount of air he would gasp emptily for more and not get it, then quit all together for a long moment before exhaling. After that the cycle would start all over again. Even to Calleigh's unpracticed ear it didn't sound good and Alexx looked visibly shaken as she worked with the EMT to stabilize Horatio's breathing. Shock set in after a few minutes and he began shivering violently in the lucid moments when he was conscious.

"Shhh," Calleigh soothed him, managing to wriggle her hand cautiously through a tangle of tubes and over the plastic neck brace to touch his cheek. "It's okay, Handsome. You're fine, we're almost there."

His ocean blue eyes latched on her face and his breathing immediately improved. Alexx nodded approvingly and shifted sideways to give Calleigh more room. The paramedic covered Horatio with a blanket but Calleigh extricated an icy hand and held it in both of hers. "Almost there," she soothed him as Alexx tucked the blanket snugly back around his other shoulder.

"Cal … I … m's …" Horatio mumbled something and tried to push the oxygen mask sideways with his free hand. Alexx reached over and gently settled it back in place.

Calleigh raised a finger to her lips. "Tell me later."

TO BE CONTINUED...


	2. Stupid Male Macho Crap

See Chapter One for Disclaimers and Rating.

Author's Note: Reviews Rock!. Thanks to you all, especiallyHotchner for the use of the word EXCELLENT that many times in one review! Becs, there is nothing I love more than hurt-Horatio so don't worry, lots more of it to come.

Something gentle as a feather was stroking his cheek, tickling him, teasing him awake. Horatio opened his eyes and a familiar face floated slowly into focus.

"Hi there," Alexx whispered. "It's nice to have you back."

Horatio centered on that incredible smile for what seemed like a very long time. Finally he sighed, licked his lips and tried to speak.

"Shhh." Alexx laid a finger across his lips. "Not yet. You're at Jackson Memorial, you've had emergency surgery to relieve swelling on your brain. I'm afraid the headache's going to hang around for a week or two but you'll be perfectly fine after some rest."

There was a burning question in Horatio's eyes. Alexx thought hard about what it might be.

"Tuesday afternoon?" she guessed and knew she'd got it wrong when he shook his head faintly.

"Calleigh?" he rasped.

Alexx picked up a glass of water and guided the bent straw between his lips. "One swallow. Very small. Sorry."

Horatio rolled the tiny, delightful wetness around his mouth for a moment. "Thanks, that's better. How's Calleigh?"

"I'm sure she's fine, Horatio. You're the one with the fractured skull."

"She's not here? Where is she?"

"I don't know, actually." Alexx looked mildly worried. "She wore a bare spot in the waiting room carpet pacing the whole time you were in surgery. Afterwards I explained everything, reassured her you were in stable condition and came in to see that you were settled comfortably. When I went back to the waiting room she was gone."

"Calleigh wouldn't just leave without a reason." His voice petered out to a raspy croak but his eyes pleaded for her to explain.

"All right, Horatio. Ready or not, if it's the whole truth you want then it's the whole truth you'll get. Calleigh's feeling extremely guilty about your condition worsening to the point it did. You scared the hell out of us both in the ambulance and she knows damn well she should have called for Rescue immediately. In other words, she shouldn't have fallen for that stupid male macho crap you handed her about being okay."

Horatio sat up. Fast.

S_tupid male macho crap…_

Whatever ever other scathing thoughts Alexx may have had were lost in a flurry of activity as she placed one hand on his chest and pressured him firmly back down towards the mattress while the other hand securely cupped and protected the back of his heavily bandaged head. One glance at Horatio's face told her what was coming next and just in time she eased his upper body to the side, sliding a stainless steel kidney dish in place.

After the small sip of water came back up there was nothing left in his stomach and it was just a long, racking spasm of dry heaves. Alexx supported his shoulders until he finally quit retching and settled back shakily on the pillow. "Done sitting up for the moment?" she snapped as she wrung out a cloth in cool water and wiped his face for him. The sharpness in her voice was such a contrast to Alexx's gentle touch that Horatio blinked in confusion. His head was throbbing and little black dots were swimming at the edges of his vision.

"Don't give me that bewildered look," she cautioned him, but her voice had softened to its former croon in deference to his aching head. She dipped the cloth again and folded it, cold, across his eyes. "Here." He felt her press something into the palm of his hand. "Morphine. Half a milligram every time you push," she explained, knowing he wouldn't use the PCA pump if he didn't know the drug or the dosage.

He hit the button once and lay still, waiting. Alexx nodded approvingly and pressed feather light fingertips on the ends of the cloth, delicately massaging his temples in a soothing, circular motion.

Horatio groaned softly as the exquisite sensation completely overwhelmed the headache. After a few minutes the tenseness seeped from his body and his breathing evened out. Alexx removed the cloth from his eyes. "Better?" she asked softly.

"Yeah. Thanks." He had the grace to look sheepish as he cleared his throat. "Sorry."

"Say it to Calleigh, Horatio, not me."

"I would only …" he glanced around emptily. "Any chance you could go look for her, Alexx?"

The M.E. sighed. "I suppose I could do that, although I have no idea where she might have gone."

Horatio thought for a moment. "The beach, maybe. There's a little spot about half a mile north of my place that's sort of special for her. The firing range would be my next guess." He shrugged an eyebrow. "The lab, to work through it. Julie's across the street. Home, eventually." He sighed, little worry lines creasing his eyes. "What do you think, Alexx? How bad was she feeling?"

"She's not answering her cell." The worry lines deepened and Alexx placed her hand comfortingly on his forearm. "All she needs is to see you, honey. Then all that guilt is going to change into righteous anger and you're going to be in for an ear full." Alexx stood up. "I'll do my best while you," she stabbed a stern finger at his chest, "get some sleep. Calleigh mad as a bag of wet cats will be quite a handful to deal with."

"Thank you, Alexx." She watched him for a moment, until he closed his eyes. He felt her tuck the button securely into his hand, pressing it once before she let go. The soft sound of her footsteps retreated to the door. When it snicked shut behind her Horatio resolutely pushed the button out of reach and lay there thinking.


	3. A Freshly Fluffed Pillow

_SEE CHAPTER ONE FOR DISCLAIMER and RATING._

_Thanks everybody for all of the awesome reviews. In particular, Corine, I hang on every word you write, girl, even if reviews are all you're giving me at the moment. Thanks for the quick Sunday afternoon rescue in response to my panic attack and for the formatting tips which were a lifesaver. Deb, fabulous to hear from you, thanks for the too kind words. Yeah, it's good to be back. Please let me know if any of my medical jargon is inaccurate, appreciate it. And Becs, you were obviously on line when I posted andon the wings of your instantaneous review I went on to write about half of this chapter in half an hour. Enjoy!_

_hc/hc/hc_

Alexx squinted as she descended three shallow steps into cool, indoor dimness from the late day Miami glare. She had dumped her shoes out after leaving the beach but a few gritty grains had persisted and shifted uncomfortably against the bottoms of her feet. Alexx's ears were still ringing from a quick walkthrough of the firing range across the street and a cold mojito was starting to sound extremely appealing whether Calleigh was here at Julie's or not.

With considerable relief the M.E. spotted a sheet of white blonde hair neatly hiding the occupant of a small, round corner table. Approaching she noticed that Calleigh was working on her second peach belini. Alexx smiled gently. At least it wasn't half a dozen scotch on the rocks like the last time she'd rescued someone else from this very table.

"Calleigh? May I sit down?"

Startled, Calleigh looked up, panic flaring in the wide blue-greens. "Is Horatio…"

"He's fine," Alexx reassured her friend, pulling out a chair. "He's worried about you."

"How big of him." Calleigh sniffed and took a sip of her drink as a huge man with a tiny, white apron tied in a ridiculous bow around his midriff approached. He scooped Calleigh's first drink glass off the table and fastidiously swiped a sticky peach ring off the mirrored black surface.

"Get'cha something, Doc?" he inquired as he polished.

"The usual, please, Big Julie."

"One mojito coming up. How about you, sweetheart?" he asked Calleigh kindly. "Another belini?"

"Sure, I guess."

Big Julie neatly intercepted a stern look from Alexx. "Aw, Doc, cut her some slack. It's man problems, you know," he observed with a knowing wink. "Besides, I talked her out of bourbon straight up before you got here. You're driving, though, so only one for you. Coming right up." Slowly the big man shuffled back behind the bar, pausing briefly to polish the neon light cocktail glass glowing midair above it. Not for the first time Alexx winced at the glaring seventies décor. Big Julie was a fixture loved by everyone but the rest could definitely stand a little updating.

Calleigh stared unblinkingly at the black mirror table top, stubbornly rubbing at a sticky peach droplet that had escaped Big Julie's notice. Alexx reached across and parted the curtain of hair, tucking it tenderly behind Calleigh's ears. "You okay, sugar?" she wondered, studying the tear tracked face.

"Yeah. Just wallowing in it, I guess." Calleigh looked up, fear on her face. "Is Horatio really all right, Alexx?"

"He will be. I promise."

Calleigh absent mindedly nibbled on the end of a stir stick. "I'm really mad at him, you know, but I'm even madder at myself. You have no idea how incredibly stupid I was."

"I have an idea how stupid Horatio was, not telling you he'd hit his head after…"

"Alexx, you don't understand," the blonde CSI protested. "I didn't check. I didn't notice that his pupils weren't reacting equally. I didn't even realize it was a bullet wound until he told me he'd been shot…"

"You're not a doctor, Calleigh," Alexx interjected gently, "but you called one."

"I know more about bullets and the damage they do than you," Calleigh sulked, "but okay, forget the medical stuff. I'm a police officer. Ask me if I secured the scene? Drew my weapon? Called for backup? Go ahead, Alexx. Ask."

Alexx sighed heavily as a mojito and a peach belini settled gently on the table top between them. She had a feeling it was going to be a very long evening and she was right. It was well after midnight when the two women finally left Julie's and returned to Jackson Memorial. Moments later they stood in the doorway of Horatio's room, staring at a precisely made and very empty bed.

"He… I wasn't here and he…" Calleigh took several shaky steps into the room as though the bed was somehow pulling her in. Alexx stayed where she was, head reeling in disbelief, body frozen while brain flew.

_It was a simple, linear fracture…the bone didn't shift…they relieved the pressure in time to avoid brain damage…I was right here when he woke up, lucid, after surgery. All the medical facts considered he should still be here. Sporting a huge headache, yes, but he should still be here._

Alexx stepped into the room, mind groping for a reasonable explanation. _They just took him down for a CT scan_, her mind supplied obligingly. Hope blossomed for a brief instant but as her experienced eye swept the room she noticed all the small things a hospital did to ready a room for a new occupant. Horatio wasn't coming back.

Calleigh was staring blankly at the freshly fluffed pillow. Alexx took her by the shoulders and turned her around, got one look at the dilated pupils in the shocked, white face and pushed the younger woman gently down into a sitting position on the bed.

_"No! Not there!"_ Calleigh flung herself off so violently that she slipped and went down, knees cracking on the freshly waxed linoleum. Alexx half-dropped, half-knelt beside her, fitting her arms around Calleigh's slender, shaking shoulders as hot tears welled up and spilled down her own face.

"I wasn't here. Alexx, he's gone and I wasn't here for him when he… when he…" Calleigh choked on a sob.

Alexx hugged her friend hard, drawing support as well as trying to give it. "Neither was I," she whispered.

"But you didn't kill him. I did."

"Oh, baby …" Horrified, Alexx squeezed tighter, doing her best to come up with the words to make Calleigh realize how wrong she was.

The door crept inward a few inches and Eric cheerfully poked his head in. "Okay to come in, H? Didn't think you'd be asleep…" The young man's voice trailed off as he took in the two women clinging to each other on the hospital floor. "What's going on?" Alarmed, he pushed the door open and came towards them.

Alexx mutely raised a tear streaked face. Eric glanced uneasily around the room, noting its' pristine condition and glaring lack of an occupant. "H? He's not…"

Abruptly Eric sat down. Unlike Calleigh, he had no compunctions whatsoever about using the bed. Elbows resting on his knees, arms limply dangling, he stared straight ahead with his mouth open a little bit and tried to absorb the shock.

After a moment Alexx stood up carefully and attempted to get Calleigh on her feet as well. Eric blinked and stood up to help eventually and between them they coaxed the blonde CSI over to the room's only chair and gently pushed her down to sit in it.

"I'll go and find out what happened," Alexx said softly, placing her hand on Calleigh's arm. "Stay with her, Eric."

Eric sat down on the bed again. Calleigh's head was bowed and he could see how hard she was trembling. He grabbed her hand as Alexx left, rubbing icy fingers between his. "Calleigh? Cal? Can you hear me?" he coaxed softly.

When she finally raised her head and looked at him her pupils were pinpricks lost in pools of despairing blue-green. Abruptly pulling her hand from his grasp Calleigh jumped up, grabbed her bag and fled, fighting with the door for a brief moment before escaping into the hallway. Still wobbly with shock himself, Eric skidded after her. Through a blur of surprised faces they flew past the nurses' station. Eric winced when Calleigh flung herself against an EXIT door hard enough to bruise. She pelted down the stairwell with Eric right behind her. He was gaining bit by bit but he didn't want to just out and out tackle her and take her down. Calleigh was in the parking lot by the time he closed in enough to reach out and grab her by the shoulders. Eric dragged her backwards into his chest, hugging her hard and holding her there with his chin resting on the top of her blonde head.

"It's okay," he crooned as she struggled. "Cal, it'll be okay. We'll figure out what to…"

Calleigh shoved a sharp elbow back into his stomach and Eric's breath exploded with a whoosh into the humid Miami night. He let go of her and stumbled sideways, slamming his face into the rear view mirror of the SUV beside him. Blood began to drip from the split skin above his cheekbone.

Horrified, eyes wide, Calleigh backed slowly away. "Just leave me alone!" she shouted when he slowly straightened up and looked at her. Calleigh spun and ran, dodging between rows of cars, quickly out of sight. Eric started to go after her but fell back, head reeling, against the passenger door of the SUV.

Alexx came flying across the pavement a few minutes later. Eric was still leaning on the vehicle for balance but the M.E. was too excited to notice. "He's alive!" she reported breathlessly, skidding to a stop and grabbing his arm. "Horatio's alive. Not that he will be for long once I get my hands on him. Idiot that he is, he checked himself out. Asked the head nurse for his clothes, signed the release forms and left, calm as could be. I stopped at the Admitting desk and someone there remembers seeing him get into a cab. We can check the address with the cab company …"

Alexx wound down and paused, realizing that Calleigh was nowhere in sight. Eric wasn't reacting to the good news like he should be, either, and the M.E. actually looked at him for the first time.

"My God, baby. You're bleeding." Concerned she reached towards his cheek but he grabbed her fingers and dragged her hand away. "Alexx, we have to find Calleigh," Eric grated. "She still thinks Horatio's dead."

Alexx's breath caught and rattled in her throat. "It's worse than that," she whispered. "Calleigh thinks she killed him."

_hc/hc/hc_

_Okay, okay, sorry for the evil cliffie, but it'll be worth it. Trust me ladies, Four is AWESOME. Stay tuned._


	4. I Want You in My Bed

_"You're beautiful. You're beautiful._

_You're beautiful, it's true._

_There must be an angel with a smile on her face,_

_When she thought up that I should be with you."_

"You're Beautiful"

James Blunt

_hc/hc/hc_

A rain-dampened, sand-encrusted Calleigh straggled around the corner of her condo hallway. The sight that awaited on her very own doorstep threw her backwards with shock, much like the recoil of a double barreled shotgun. The wall stopped her, smacking her shoulder blades flat, the force of the impact expelling most of the air from her lungs. Calleigh didn't even feel it but she did put two and two together in two seconds flat.

_"What the hell were you thinking?"_

Calleigh was screaming but there wasn't enough air in her lungs for that to happen and it came out as a hoarse croak instead.

"That I wanted to talk to you, make sure you were okay," Horatio answered from the floor where he sat, leaning against her door.

Puzzled, he tilted his head. At some subconscious level the scream had registered and Horatio wondered what the hysterics were all about. He wasn't hurt that badly and he had never actually seen Calleigh behave any other way but rationally. Even matching him drink for drink at Julie's after a particularly rough day she could still out think him, every time. This wasn't his bullet girl, not even close.

"I'm sorry. I just didn't feel steady enough go looking anywhere else," he confessed. "I knew you'd come home eventually."

"We got to your room and the bed was empty," she whispered. "We thought you died, Horatio."

He blinked for a moment while that sank in, then awkwardly braced a foot underneath him and tried to stand. About halfway up a serious wave of vertigo threatened to plant him flat on his face and he slid carefully back down with his spine pressed flat against the door, gritting his back teeth until the waves of blackness ebbed from the edges of his vision. Passing out on Calleigh at this moment in time probably wouldn't earn him a lot of extra brownie points.

"Calleigh, I am so sorry," he phrased with extreme care. "That was incredibly stupid of me. I never thought…"

"Well finally something we agree on!"

Calleigh's voice was back but her anger vanished in an explosion of absolute joy as it hit her. Horatio was alive. Zeroing in on the beautiful blue eyes she actually saw him for the first time since she'd rounded the corner. The expensive gray silk suit was rumpled and stained beyond the help of the best dry cleaner in Miami. The paramedics had ripped the teal green shirt open all down the front and a surgical drain peeked out from underneath the collar. Horatio's head, wrapped in a heavy circlet of bandages, was sagging sideways against her dark cherrywood door. Not to mention the fact that he was dripping wet, bandages and all, and actually sitting in a puddle on the hallway floor. Full of remorse Calleigh flew to his side and knelt down.

"Could we just go inside for a little while?" he wondered wistfully when her fingertips touched his cold, wet face. "I really would like to apologize properly."

"Oh sweet Jesus." Calleigh clamped her eyes shut as two conflicting lines of thought slid on a collision course through her mind.

_He's in bad shape. Look at him…he's gray, for God's sake. You know what you have to do…_

_He's alive! He made it all the way here on his own in the rain. I can call Alexx, we'll talk while we wait for her. I'd like that _so_ much but…_

"…I don't want to make the same mistake twice," she whispered out loud. "You should go back to the hospital, Horatio."

"I don't want to make the same mistake either," he assured her. "So just to set the record straight, no, I'm not all right nor will I be in a minute."

"Glad to hear it," she sassed, half-teasing half-truth and feeling half-way-human for the first time in twenty four hours.

"But I honestly do think it'll be okay if I just come inside for awhile and dry off," Horatio coaxed as only he could. "You can drive me back to the hospital later if you want. I'll go quietly. Promise." He tipped his head a bit and the intense blue eyes, diluted but still compelling, wormed their way into hers and wriggled around, looking for a comfy spot.

Biting her lip she nodded, fishing blindly through her bag for keys. Horatio was still leaning against the door and he very nearly collapsed inward with it when it opened.

Calleigh grabbed his shoulder. "Can you stand?"

"Think so," he muttered.

"Put some weight on me," she ordered, pulling his arm around her neck, and he did. Together they took a couple of halting steps into the condo. Leaning heavily on Calleigh Horatio suddenly realized that his sopping wet suit was rapidly draining all over her perfectly polished hardwood.

"Don't worry about it," she told him.

"All right," he answered blankly. "What now?"

"I want you in my bed," she said firmly, gesturing towards the hallway. "Can you make it that far?"

The crooked smile caught her off guard until she realized what she'd just said and blushed prettily. She was wearing one of those mysterious cowl neck tops that clung to her upper arms and apparently used some combination of gravity and good luck to stay there. Horatio glanced down shyly at the puddle forming around his feet.

Calleigh sighed. "Let's get your shoes off. Here, hold onto the door frame." She switched to high efficiency mode and Horatio was amazed to find his shoes off and his soaking wet suit jacket deftly removed and hanging on the door knob before he had time to think. Without a word Calleigh helped him into her bathroom, stripped him down to his boxers, toweled him dry while resisting his feeble attempts to fend her off and tucked him into her bed. He looked rather rakish, she thought, propped up against a stack of pillows with the raggedy bandages circling his head at an angle and a day's worth of stubble actually long enough to look red on his chin.

Then Calleigh noticed how violently he was shivering. Quickly she pulled the quilt up to his shoulders, feeling a shiver herself when the backs of her fingers accidentally brushed his bare chest. "You'll catch pneumonia if you're not careful," she muttered in disgust to distract him from her sudden reaction. "How in God's name did you get so wet?"

"Waiting out front of your building," he chattered. "Finally when you didn't come I held the outer door for those two charming elderly ladies who live down the hall. They didn't even notice when I followed them inside."

Calleigh rolled her eyes at the ceiling. "Oh, they noticed all right. Don't worry, I'll be getting an earful next time we meet in the elevator." Calleigh shook her head and went out of the room then, leaving Horatio to glance around guiltily at the perfectly dusted perfection of her most private space. He sighed, wishing he could just bask in the simple delight of being here. It would be wonderful to just close his eyes and drift off to sleep on a pile of Calleigh's pillows but his head was throbbing far too badly for that.

Calleigh reappeared in a minute, snapping her cell phone shut. "Alexx was all ready on her way. I haven't been answering my cell," she confessed guiltily. "Someone at the hospital remembered you leaving in a cab and Alexx tracked the address down. She's still pretty shaken up and I told her she shouldn't be driving herself. She said she wasn't."

Horatio swallowed dryly. "She thought the same as you? That I was…that I...?"

Calleigh moved her head up and down woodenly, tears welling.

Horatio groaned. "It got so late. I honestly didn't think anyone was coming back."

"My fault, actually. It took eight peach belinis to sort me out," Calleigh explained with a rueful grin.

"You broke my record," he observed. "I'm impressed."

"No need to be. Thanks to Big Julie the last three were more or less ice."

Horatio attempted a smile but he couldn't quite fake it. The intensity of his headache was pounding out through every pore and Calleigh winced in sympathy. "I'd get you some 292's but we should wait for Alexx." She did bring a tall glass of cold water and gingerly sat down on the edge of the mattress to watch him drink it. Acutely aware of the three feet of empty air that separated them from each other Calleigh stared, fascinated, at a single water droplet that slid from under the bandages down his cheek, crept across his chin and vanished somewhere underneath her quilt. Dangerously seductive sky blue eyes wandered accidentally into hers and Calleigh shook her head, the tips of her tied back hair sliding across her bare shoulders. Horatio clearly saw her swallow, hard.

"I am so sorry," they both said at exactly the same moment and while Calleigh tried to figure out what on earth to do next she noticed another droplet follow the first one down, and then another. The one after that was pink and by the time the droplets became of narrow snake of moisture it was red.

"You're bleeding!" Calleigh gasped. She jumped up and darted into the bathroom, coming back with a towel which she held gingerly at the base of the bandages to absorb the blood. "I don't want to apply any pressure to your head, Horatio. I need to …"

Something metallic nudged her fingertips and she glanced down to see him pressing his cell phone into her hand. Calleigh would have been absolutely delighted if she hadn't been so worried. She raised panicky eyes to find Horatio's calm, steady gaze and they were still riveted to each other with mutual approval when a musical tone announced someone at the condo's main entry.

"Oh thank God, it must be Alexx. Here, can you hold this?" Calleigh guided his hand to the towel before jumping up to get the door. Horatio heard her buzz Alexx up and there was a lot of rapid talking in quiet tones in the hallway. When Calleigh reappeared with Alexx literally in tow Horatio honestly had no idea what to expect. He braced himself for another tongue lashing but the M.E. simply crossed the room in silence and sat down lightly on the edge of the mattress, as businesslike as he was used to seeing her in the autopsy theatre on a normal day at work.

"Take that away, just for a second," she instructed him, signalling him to move the towel so she could judge the severity of the bleeding. "Did he lose consciousness, even briefly?" she asked Calleigh who was hovering anxiously.

"No. At least not since I got here. Horatio?"

"No. Never."

Suspicious of the quick answer both women glared daggers at him and he shifted uncomfortably. "Scout's honour, ladies. No."

"You can hold that up again," Alexx instructed, guiding the towel back into place for him. "We might just be okay here. Calleigh, can you get my bag, please?"

Calleigh took off for the front entry while Alexx stood up to do a quick, visual check of the bandages all around. When Calleigh returned with her bag she listened to Horatio's heart and took his blood pressure.

"Vital signs are fine and you're not actively bleeding," Alexx said reassuringly, as much for Calleigh's benefit as his own. "It's just the surgical drain that's causing the problem. If you're comfortable with me doing it I can change these wet dressings for you and empty the drain. It has to be done, but if you'd rather someone else …"

Horatio stopped her with a hand on her arm. "I'm fine with that, Alexx. The question becomes are you comfortable doing it? In light of everything that's happened lately you're putting yourself way out on a very shaky limb here."

"Only if this leaks out." She smiled at him gently. "It seems to happen a lot lately, I'll grant you that much. But it's just us, honey. Who exactly were you planning to tell? Or is it Calleigh you don't trust?"

A small grin tugged the corners of his lips but he still looked worried. "Who drove you here?" he wanted to know, covering every angle.

"Eric did," she told him. Horatio relaxed then but Calleigh had the complete opposite reaction, jumping backwards and banging her hip sharply into the dresser. Spinning around she grabbed a wobbling vase full of tulips and steadied it. When she didn't turn back to them Horatio pushed himself up on an elbow, looking alarmed.

"She socked him," Alexx informed Horatio evenly. "Six stitches to close the cut and I must say the bruise is all ready quite impressive."

Horatio eased back down, the half hidden grin once again twitching his lips. "I didn't sock him," a small voice protested from the direction of the dresser. "I just elbowed him in the gut. He's the one who fell into the truck."

Horatio snorted with suppressed laughter which quickly brought tears to his eyes. He closed them and tried to keep his expression neutral but a flinching cheek muscle gave him away. "Let's get you fixed up, honey," Alexx sympathized. "Time enough for that lecture later."

"What can I do to help?" Calleigh volunteered. She had let go of the vase but still showed no signs of turning around to face them.

"I brought bandages and whatever else I need but I could use a basin of warm water and some clean wash cloths. After that you need to see to yourself, sugar," Alexx said gently. "You're shaking like a leaf. Have a hot shower and fix something to eat for both of you."

Calleigh brought the requested items and then vanished into the adjoining bathroom. A disgusted sound erupted from the other side of the door as she caught sight of herself in the mirror and a moment later the water started running in the shower. Alexx very gently began to unwind Horatio's bandages.

It went pretty well at first but the inner layers were badly stuck down and she had to soak the gauze free in places with warm water. Eventually the last strip eased away and Horatio felt the merest breath of cautious fingertips explore the area around the surgical site. When Alexx was satisfied she emptied and checked the drain for him and then expertly began to wind fresh, white bandages into place.

"Do you want a shot of morphine?" she asked evenly when she was finished. "I just happen to have a dose with me."

Horatio's eyes pricked with gratitude. She was taking one hell of a risk just being here and he dragged up reluctant lids to find himself looking straight into expressive black eyes brimming with sympathy. "You have no idea how grateful I am, Alexx. For everything. But Calleigh mentioned 292s. That might be safer."

Alexx nodded. "Wise choice in the long run. Must be the chemist in you."

"No, it's the cop. Lose the morph, Alexx," he advised, "as soon as possible. And please be careful."

She nodded, suddenly looking as exhausted as he felt. "I will. But right now I'm going to go home and crash. It's been a long night. I'll come by and check on you this evening. Eric's waiting downstairs, he has some questions about what happened at the parkade. I'll tell him to hold off until then as well. Unless you need to talk to him sooner?" Alexx ended on a question.

Something flickered briefly in the blue eyes but Horatio quickly pushed it away. "Tonight will be fine," he assured her but when Alexx made a move to stand up Horatio placed a hand on her arm. "Alexx, before you go I … I'm sorry for causing such a commotion. If I had just thought…"

"Start now and all's forgiven." Alexx glanced at the still closed bathroom door. "Just look after her, Horatio. I have a feeling we're very lucky to have Calleigh here with us safe and sound this morning."

Horatio paled visibly, quite the accomplishment since he was all ready three shades whiter than the bandages. "Alexx, you don't mean… you don't think she might have considered…"

"Yes. I do."

"No. You're wrong," he countered with complete certainty. "Not Calleigh."

"Yes. Calleigh." Alexx reached out and lay a finger across his lips. "Don't say anything, else, honey. Not now. We're all far too tired to make any sense. I'll see you tonight."

Silently he watched as she gathered up her things and packed them in her bag. She left Calleigh's bedroom with a soft "sleep well," and a moment later he heard her let herself quietly out the front door. Horatio closed his eyes and tried not to think at all until he felt Calleigh emerge from the bathroom in a humid wave of lavender scented air. He couldn't resist opening his eyes then and smiling. Still damp hair fell around her face in soft waves and she was wearing pink PJ bottoms and a tank top with the tiniest spaghetti straps he'd ever seen.

"Hungry?" she wondered, and he moved his head very slightly to indicate no, still smiling.

"Me neither," she confessed. He looked so much better with the crisp white bandages setting off the red stubble on his chin and the blue of his eyes. They were just a little bit dazed and unfocused, though. "Did Alexx give you anything?" she worried.

"No. She offered but I thought…"

Without a word Calleigh turned back to the bathroom and returned a few seconds later, depositing two white capsules in the palm of his hand and handing him a glass of water. She stood there watching while he popped the painkillers into his mouth and swallowed. When he finished the water she reached for the glass but Horatio took her hand and drew her down to sit on the edge of the bed beside him.

"You need to sleep," Calleigh faltered. Carefully she extricated her hand and tucked his back under the quilt, pulling it up to his chin.

"Where do you think you're going?" he protested when she got up and padded in bare feet towards the hallway. "You're not sleeping on the couch. This is your bed and you need to sleep as badly as I do. There's plenty of room."

Calleigh very slowly turned around to find Horatio lifting an eyebrow as well as a corner of the quilt. "I'll give up a couple of pillows," he offered, jiggling both the eyebrow and the quilt, "and I promise to snore quietly."

Calleigh's face lit up with a grin. "Me, too," she giggled, just loudly enough that neither one of them heard the small scrape of metal on metal as a lock pick stealthily slipped inside the front door deadbolt.

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_Hope you guys liked it. This is shaping up to be a very long fic, I hope everybody's okay with that. Enjoy! and please keep the reviews coming, you have no idea how much I LUV them._


	5. Treat It Like a Crime Scene

_God, I LUV you guys, thanks so much for the encouraging reviews, you sure know your way to a girl's heart. wtravler, welcome, hope you stick with us. Deathofme, whoa! pretty intense, what can I say but thanks. Becs, glad you're still hanging in there with me. Chloe, are you reading this? Hurry up with that next chapter, girl!. And hey, Corine, I couldn't have done this one without you. I just kept thinking of all those awesome alternating chapters in Hostages without Horatio and somehow kept going without him. Thank God that's over! So yeah, no Horatio in this one, but wait … I think you'll like it anyway. Let me know._

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Eric leaned on Calleigh's buzzer while Alexx fidgeted beside him, switching her medical kit nervously from one hand back to the other. "Why the hell isn't Calleigh answering?" she snapped, throwing her dark hair impatiently across her shoulder. "They're expecting me."

"Maybe they're…uhh…busy," Eric suggested, quickly stifling a grin as it pulled unpleasantly at the row of butterfly bandages curving across one cheek.

Alexx grimaced. "Don't be funny, Eric. This is taking too long. Buzz the super."

Calleigh's landlord appeared in person. Eric rolled his eyes at the excessive caution but Alexx was delighted that he hadn't just buzzed them in. He had a lot of single women living here and he was careful, she highly approved of that. Eric impatiently plastered his police ID against the glass entry door and after the super opened it they ignored him entirely, sweeping past through the lobby towards the bank of elevators. "We'll call if we need you," Eric dismissed the man over his shoulder.

Alexx stabbed 29 repeatedly as the elevator doors closed with an annoying lack of alacrity. "It won't go any faster, Alexx," Eric chuckled and she threw an exasperated glance his way, her annoyed expression softening somewhat as the ambient elevator lighting revealed one side of his face to be a mottled assortment of purple and blackish blue bruising. An angry crimson slash followed the line of his cheekbone, surgical stitches alternating along its' length with starkly white butterfly bandages.

"Ouch," she sympathized. "Poor baby. No wonder Calleigh's not answering the door, if she got one look at you on the security monitor. I should have left you in the parking lot."

The tips of Eric's lips curved upward. He hadn't shaved for a day and a half and the partial smile was immediately sexy. "I've had enough of parking lots for one day, thank you, Alexx," he informed her, and they were both in good spirits when they exited the elevator and rounded the last corner of the condo hallway leading to Calleigh's door.

"Oh my God," Alexx whispered while Eric's sexy grin collapsed in half a second flat. Smoothly his weapon materialized out of nowhere as he motioned with the other hand for Alexx to stay back. Cautiously Eric advanced on the partly open cherry wood door.

_"Miami Dade Police!"_ he hollered as he kicked it in all the way and disappeared from Alexx's line of vision. _"Calleigh? H?"_

For a very long thirty seconds Alexx plastered herself against the hallway wall and prayed, thankful not to hear a gun shot but hoping hard to hear something else. Anything else, really, but preferably the voices of Calleigh and Horatio giving Eric a hard time about the door as they all emerged safe and sound from the condo. But Eric reappeared alone, nine mil on its' way back to the holster and cell phone out instead. "It looks like they've been taken," he told Alexx grimly. "We're clear, you can go in, just treat it like a crime scene, okay? I'm calling Tripp."

"Okay," Alexx faltered. Treating it like a crime scene usually meant a DB for her to process and the M.E. shuddered, thanking her lucky stars there wasn't one waiting for her this time. Carefully she set her kit down on the hallway floor and unsnapped the latches. As she slipped on a pair of latex gloves she noticed Eric gesturing with one hand while he spoke tersely with Tripp on the cell. His kit was still in the Hummer, she realized. Alexx flung a second pair of gloves in his direction.

By the time the M.E. got up enough nerve to approach the door Eric was sliding his phone shut. He nodded at her to go ahead when she hesitated and Alexx edged gently inside Calleigh's condo, making sure not to disturb anything that even vaguely reassembled evidence. Everything seemed fine in the entry hall, some scuffs on the hardwood but they could have been there this morning. Alexx couldn't remember. She glanced into the living room, which seemed undisturbed, and walked somewhat unsteadily down the hallway towards the bedroom where she'd last seen them.

Alexx stopped in the doorway with an audible gasp. There was a vivid spray of bright blood across Calleigh's pillows, the wall and the headboard.

Eric had been in the room all ready. He placed his hands on her shoulder blades and gently propelled her inside, steering her neatly around the blood evidence on the floor. He wished he could just sink down on Calleigh's bed for awhile and close his eyes to think, but the bed was where he hoped to find most of his evidence. "My God, Alexx," he moaned, "I can't believe I let this happen. Not to H and Calleigh."

"Oh no! Don't you dare, not you too!" Alexx put her hands on Eric's shoulders and stared into his face, waiting to speak until he finally raised his dark eyes to meet hers. "I've had quite enough of people blaming themselves for things that aren't their fault," she lectured severely. "You didn't let things happen, today, honey. They just did, that's all."

"Well somebody should have thought about the shooter following through with another action," Eric protested angrily. "I could easily have spoken with H this morning, I shouldn't have waited. Maybe he knew … knows … something that could have helped. I sure as hell didn't find much to go on at the parkade." Eric rubbed his forehead. He had processed a few thousand crime scenes in his career but he glanced around helplessly at this one, momentarily at a loss where to start.

Frank Tripp arrived and smoothly filled the gap, resting his broad hand on Eric's shoulder for a brief moment and then simply taking over everything that wasn't directly evidence related. Crime scene tape went up, uniformed officers were dispatched to knock on neighbouring doors, someone called the superintendent. Alexx heard sneakers squeaking on hardwood and Ryan Wolfe flew into the bedroom, a forensics kit clutched in each gloved hand. Alexx couldn't remember ever seeing the young CSI move that fast or look that disturbed or disheveled. His eyes skimmed the room, clashed with hers for a brief second in passing, and then flinched visibly when they took in the spray of blood decorating Calleigh's headboard.

"I'll take the bedroom," Ryan offered, stepping up to Eric.

Alexx expected the more experienced CSI to refuse and insist on processing this room himself but Eric raised his eyes and studied Ryan's eager face before he responded. "Thanks," he said quietly, taking the second kit from Ryan's extended hand and leaving to process the rest of the condo.

Alexx stayed with Ryan in the bedroom, feeling an odd need to be there, and she watched the young CSI work the evidence. He took dozens of photographs of the blood spray on the wall and the blood pool on the bed and then multiple swabs before flicking on his flashlight and meticulously beginning a visual examination of the bed, one square centimeter at a time.

"How you doing, baby?" Alexx asked eventually. She spoke softly, not wanting to disturb but needing to speak.

Ryan sighed in frustration as he bagged yet another hair. "Most of it's long and blonde, no surprises there. But all the others I've found are red. I was really hoping for a third donor, Alexx." He cleared his throat, talking through what he saw. "From the void in the spatter on the pillows it's obvious that two people were sleeping here when the attack happened. High velocity blood droplets," he muttered, "which means immediate and severe blood loss. Not arterial in this case, but close. Unusual pattern for a gunshot wound but there's no cast off and most attackers who use a knife pull the weapon out immediately and strike again. That didn't happen here. If this blood is the result of a stabbing then the weapon was left in the wound. Doesn't happen a lot."

Alexx stared at the young CSI. She was a medical doctor and she was having trouble coping with all of this blood simply because it belonged to someone she knew. Ryan had moved past it.

"Alexx, what can you tell from the volume of blood loss?" he asked suddenly, and the M.E. found herself wondering if she had misjudged his detachment. "Was this a fatal wound?"

"No. Potentially life threatening but not immediately fatal," she reassured the young CSI, and he nodded gratefully.

"Whoever was stabbed was lying on this side of the bed," he told her. Alexx shivered. She all ready knew who that was.

Ryan didn't ask. "I'll bag everything and get it back to the lab." He switched off his flashlight but not before the edge of the beam skimmed across Alexx's cheekbones and caught her eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked gently.

"No," she wavered. "Not even close." Ryan gently reached out and took her forearm. Avoiding the smears on the hardwood where someone had been dragged, bleeding, from the room, the two of them went out into the hallway to see how Eric was doing with the rest of the crime scene.


	6. Pitch Black

Calleigh drifted drowsily for awhile before opening her eyes to complete and absolute lack of light. That was fine for a moment until she remembered her last few seconds of consciousness and immediately defined the darkness as hostile. After sitting up much too quickly Calleigh almost but not quite threw up as the lingering unpleasantness of chloroform choked her nostrils.

"What…what..." Gasping for fresh air Calleigh's brain groped its' way through a sickly sweet headache. Images of the last thing she remembered seeing flooded her mind -- the flash of a knife blade beside her and a circle of white bandages vanishing in a spray of blood.

_"Horatio!"_

Her own scream engulfed her, instantly echoing. Wherever she was, the room was small. Raising trembling fingertips to touch her face Calleigh immediately snatched them back when they encountered a sticky residue of chloroform roughened by a crust of dried blood she didn't think was hers. She forced herself to be still, listening for the slightest sound, but there was absolutely nothing except for a small vent fan of some kind running up above her head. It was just loud enough to keep her from hearing what she wanted most to hear -- the sound of someone else's breathing.

The darkness was so absolute that Calleigh's eyes weren't adjusting. She reached out, blind in the pitch black, and identified the surface underneath her as a mattress. Not her own, but thinner, with rough sheets and single harsh blanket folded up near the foot. Her heart plummeted when she realized she was alone on the bed. Exploring fingers found the edge of the mattress and Calleigh swung her legs over, bare feet brushing carpet. This wasn't her condo.

The simple act of standing up in the oppressive blackness was extremely difficult. She had experienced a similar feeling once before as a little girl with her Dad on a National Park tour of some very deep caves. The guide had warned them before the lights went off but it was pretty scary anyway when it happened, not so much the darkness as the complete and utter absence of light. Calleigh the little girl had held her Daddy's hand and known that the guide would momentarily reach up and switch on his headlamp. Calleigh the grown woman had to find the light for herself.

Moving through thick blackness she brushed her leg along the edge of the mattress as she went, keeping the tactile reassurance of its presence beside her. All too soon, though, she reached the foot of the bed and had to take a step forward into emptiness. As she did she stretched her arms out in front and her fingers bumped something soft yet substantial which then moved away out of reach. Scrabbling hands found it again, identified human flesh, flew upward to feel a ribcage, reached higher to touch a chin rough with stubble and then an edge of ragged bandage.

Calleigh was standing on her tip toes, yet Horatio's head was almost too high up for her outstretched hands to reach, his body a foot and half taller than it should have been, standing. He wasn't quite solid either, he kept moving away from her when she tried to touch him. Disoriented in the darkness, Calleigh's mind groped. It was like he was … like he was …

_Like he was hanging._

"Horatio?" she whispered, outstretched fingers trailing down ice cold cheeks.

There wasn't an answer, not that she really expected to get one. Calleigh's trembling fingers, now uncomfortably slick with something that could only be blood, felt their way behind his ear. She searched for the right spot and held her breath until she felt it, the faint flutter of a pulse.

He was alive. A sudden need to _see_ overwhelmed Calleigh and she panicked in the pitch black, moved too quickly and rammed her shoulder blade into something that felt painfully like a door frame. Stumbling back from the sharp impact she bumped into the solid weight of Horatio's dangling body and sent it spinning away from her. Calleigh heard a faint groan.

"I'm sorry. Oh, God, I'm sorry, Horatio," she whispered. Carefully she turned herself around and reached out. Bare skin brushed by her fingertips and she caught him around the waist, gently slowing his motion until he was still. "I'll be right back," she told him, hoping she sounded more in control than she felt. "Just hold on. I'm going to find the light. I'll be right back."

She listened for a sound, even another groan would have sufficed, but there was nothing except the damn fan droning away near the ceiling. _Well that was stupid, Duquesne,_ she lectured herself sharply. _Analyze. It's a room like any other. Follow the walls, find the door, 80 percent probability of a light switch. Do it._

She did. And just as predicated the switch was there. Calleigh snapped it upward and spun around, pressing the small of her back against the door. A single bulb dangling from a central fixture illuminated a small room. Sixty watts at best, Calleigh estimated, but more than enough after the former darkness. The rest of the room eluded her for the moment as her eyes flew to what she most needed to see and she gasped out loud when she saw it.


	7. Hook and Wire

_Okay, everybody, I now officially have a beta for this story, for which I am eternally grateful. I've never had one before and she's AWESOME :grin:guess who?_

_Hey, Becs, are you ever off line? I hope not, cuz I LUV this instant feedback thing we've got going! And Deb, thanks. I'll be getting back to you about RC and TPTB -- interesting things are brewing on that front._

_I appreciate the encouragement from all and the lack of flames. This chapter was a long time coming and I apologize, also I tried to tame the evil cliffie beast just a little bit. Hugs to everybody._

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Horatio was indeed hanging from the ceiling as Calleigh had suspected, except that the ropes she had envisioned weren't ropes at all but some kind of thin, stiff wire, twisted alternately around his wrists and over a four inch yellow metal hook screwed solidly into a nine foot ceiling. _The kind of hook you use to hang up a ladder in your garage,_ she thought bitterly, trying to distract herself from the obvious. The taut wire strands had bitten so cruelly through Horatio's skin that white bone filmed with blood was actually visible in places. Tears began an unasked for, uncontrolled slide down Calleigh's face as she took three quick steps to reach his side.

"Horatio?" she choked softly, touching his hip which was at eye level and hoping he wasn't hurt there. He groaned again which Calleigh decided to take as an encouraging sign. "I'm just figuring out the best way to get you down," she soothed him, biting her lip until she tasted blood. "Won't be long now." Angrily she brushed the tears away and ran her eyes up and down the length of him, assessing the damage.

He was naked except for the boxer shorts he had been wearing in bed and his lean body was racked with silent shivering, every rib visible. By the way he was hanging Calleigh figured that one or more likely both shoulders were dislocated. His head was slumped forward, the wrapped bandages still in place. The blood liberally sprayed across them appeared dry and rusty brown in colour so Calleigh was hopeful that his head was in no worse shape that it had been before. His upper chest, where he had been stabbed in bed beside her, was a different story. The knife was still in there, she could see the hilt protruding just below his collarbone, and the wound had bled profusely. Blood from his wrists absolutely soaked his arms and had run down to mingle with the blood on his chest so she couldn't really tell if the knife wound had closed over. Even if it had, getting him down would probably reopen it.

The rest of him, thank God, seemed relatively intact except for some bruising on his legs which had probably happened when he was maneuvered up into position for hanging. Calleigh shuddered, forcing her attention away from his obviously serious physical condition to the more immediate problem of getting him down. A vision of wire cutters sprang toa mind desperate for hope but a quick visual survey of the room revealed nothing useful.

"How are we going to do this?" Horatio whispered, trying to lift his chin just enough to look at her. His body objected to the movement with a cramping spasm of agony. Horatio couldn't bite back the cry of pain.

"Be still!" Calleigh gasped, reaching around his waist and hugging him very gently. She pressed in as close as she could without hurting him and looked up into hazy pain filled pale blue eyes. "Easy," she insisted.

"I'll rephrase," he tried again, licking cracked lips as he shivered. "How the hell are we going to do this?"

"The chair," she told him confidently, speaking in the same instant that it occurred to her. "There's a chair over there. We're both going to stand on it, then you're going to lean on me while I untie your hands."

"Mmmm…sounds good," he mumbled. A flinch of pain jerked his eyelids shut and they stayed that way. "Especially the leaning on you part."

"Stay still," she warned him again before carefullyletting go. "I'll bring the chair."

Calleigh angled it carefully under his feet from the front, wincing as his toes brushed the wooden seat. She wriggled the chair downward, making sure all four legs were sitting solidly on the carpet. "Okay, try and stand up, Horatio. Go slow," she pleaded, touching his hip lightly. "Let me know what to do to help if I can. Otherwise I'll just end up hurting you by moving something I shouldn't."

Horatio flexed his knees experimentally, then dragged the tops of his toes off the wooden seat, bringing the balls of his feet back to settle there instead. Calleigh was pleased with the progress he was making until he tentatively tried to take some of his own weight. When his shoulders rolled slightly forward it forced a scream of agony from his lips after which he hung limply, panting, his body spinning slightly clockwise.

"Passing out is not an option," she told him firmly as she stopped his midair motion with gentle hands. "I'm getting up beside you." Praying not to lose her balance Calleigh stepped up onto the chair. The doorframe she had run into earlier in the dark was just close enough that she could reach out and steady herself. The top of Horatio's head was now level with his and she had to swallow hard to keep her stomach where it belonged as she forced herself to look up and study the position of his bound wrists. Calleigh was quite used to the sight of mangled flesh and exposed bone but usually they had the decency to be part of a corpse or at the very least not attached to someone she loved.

"The wire's not twisted through a closed hook," she told him after a gut-wrenching inspection, "it's only looped over. If you can stand up on your own and get enough height I'll try and lift your wrists up and over instead of having to untwist all the wire. It'll be easier to do that later when you're down."

He grunted and she could tell that he was all ready trying."Lean against me as much as you need to," she told him,intent on keeping her own balance as he shifted more and then more of his weight against her.

After pushing upward just a fragment of an inch Horatio's position shifted ever so slightly. Calleigh heard him suck a lungful of air past clenched teeth. He would be in absolute agony when his dislocated shoulders began to rotate for real, Calleigh realized. She gripped his upper arms firmly and did her best to hold them steady in the air above his head, hoping it would help. Her own arms immediately ached with the strain and she could only begin to imagine how his must feel.

"Okay, here we go," she whispered in his ear when he had straightened up enough that she thought it would work. His breath was coming in rough gasps and catching in his throat. "Listen to me, Horatio. You can't slip or we'll have to start all over. You need to stay standing while I do this. I'm sorry, I can't think of any way to make it not hurt so I'm just going to go ahead and do it."

Calleigh stood on tip toes and pushed his arms upward, ignoring the hot breath of his scream when it filled her ear. As soon as his bound wrists were high enough she lifted them up and over the hook, then began to lower them in as fluid a motion as she could manage, doing her best to rotate his shoulders smoothly as his arms came down.

It took an eternity. Horatio managed to stand steady but by the time his hands were hanging limply in front of him he was sobbing uncontrollably into her shoulder and trying at the same time to unsuccessfully quit and catch his breath. Tenderly she held him, carefully avoiding the knife wound, stroking his back as she talked about stepping down off the chair together. "We go that way," she moved her head to give him the direction. "The end of the bed is only about two feet away and there's no footboard. Hitting the mattress will hurt less than the floor if you fall."

Horatio groaned. "It's a theory, I suppose." But a moment later when she asked if he was ready he shook his head. "Cal, I don't think I can," he gasped.

"Okay, tell you what. I'll get down first and help you off. Just don't fall on top me. Deal?"

"'kay," he muttered, and she stepped lightly off the chair without touching him in any way. His legs were shaking so badly she knew he was coming down now, one way or the other.

"Your turn." She fitted her hands on either side of his waist. "I'll try and balance you. Just one step, it's about twenty inches, not much farther than the running board on the Hummer. Take your time."

Horatio sucked some air down his tight throat, looked straight into Calleigh's confident eyes and stepped down. He swayed but stayed on his feet, although by the look of him it wasn't going to last for long. Carefully Calleigh steered him over to the side of the bed and sat him on it. "Lay down," she urged, guiding with one hand on his back, the other making sure that the pillow ended up between his head and the mattress. She picked up his ankles and helped lift his legs onto the bed. Horatio weakly smiled his thanks, knowing at this moment he didn't have the strength to do it himself.

"Okay. There you go, Handsome." Calleigh bent over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, also using the movement to do a close, visual check of the knife. Horatio seemed barely aware of it and by some miracle the hilt didn't seem to have moved much, but there was so much blood everywhere it was impossible to tell if the wound had reopened or not. At least blood wasn't pouring from anywhere at the moment. She smiled reassuringly. "Hopefully that's a bathroom over there. I'm going to check it out, see if there's something I can use. Wait here, okay?"

He chuckled dryly. "Shouldn't be a problem."

Calleigh came back with a first aid kit, a plastic tub of warm water, a stack of clean towels and wash cloths. "Very well stocked," she said out loud to herself, looking vaguely worried as she brought the chair over beside the bed. Why would someone hurt Horatio this badly and then leave a first aid kit and other supplies so she could presumably patch him up? None of the answers she came up with sounded like a picnic in the park. Time to analyze it later, she decided, cringing as Horatio's eyes strayed from her face to the yellow hook and stayed there.

"I can't believe you got me down off that thing," he murmured.

"You got you down. I just helped. Why don't you close your eyes, try to relax." _And quit staring at that damn hook,_ she ranted silently as she scrabbled through the first aid kit for painkillers.

Horatio squinted at her, looking skeptical. First aid always hurt and the upcoming session promised to be an extra special treat. Relaxing was more or less the farthest thing from his mind. Passing out maybe, relaxing definitely not.

Calleigh's blood went cold when she realized that there were no medications of any kind in the otherwise overstocked first aid kit. Someone had removed them on purpose, someone who wanted Horatio in as much pain as possible. "I won't touch your wrists for now," she reassured him, gulping down her fear before it showed, "and I'll do my best not to move your arms. I'm just going to clean you up a bit so I can see what's bleeding and what's not. Please, Horatio, try and relax."

He sighed and let his eyelids droop as the delicious warmth of a damp cloth spread across his sore chest. "Are you okay, Cal?" he wondered,voice wandering. "He didn't hurt you."

_It wasn't so much a question as a statement of fact. He didn't hurt you. _He._ Not they._

As frightened as she was by Horatio's words Calleigh carefully filed them away with everything else for later. He was so weak at the moment he could barely speak. Whatever strength he had left he needed for things other than a verbal interrogation.

"I'm perfectly fine," she reassured him. "I was chloroformed, that's all. Even the headache's gone. Now shut up and rest, Lieutenant, that's an order."

With a small, crooked smile he carefully settled his head down into the pillow and surprised them both by almost immediately relaxing. The soothing warmth on his chest as Calleigh cleaned him up felt wonderful and she was doing a great job of not disturbing his dislocated shoulders. As long as he kept perfectly still most of his pain was bearable. Horatio's breathing slowed, his heart rate steadied and he was very nearly asleep when he felt her gentle touch on his arm and heard her reluctant voice. "I hate to do this, but let's have a look at those wrists now."

He blinked open bleary eyes. "Me first," he told her and before Calleigh could do anything to stop him he flexed his elbows and wearily raised his bound wrists up as close to his face as he could get them. She grasped his upper arms to offer some support while Horatio studied his own mangled flesh with the same meticulous detachment he did bullet striations under Calleigh's microscope in the ballistics lab.

Most of the skin in the vicinity of his wrists was missing and fresh blood seeped up continually from the raw flesh. In some places strands of wire had sliced so deep they were embedded in striated white muscle and the rounded ends of both ulnas were exposed where skin and tissue had been scraped away. At first Calleigh could do nothing but stare, her mouth dry and her stomach flipping unpredictably, but gradually her attention switched from Horatio's torn flesh to the rapt expression on his face. Head slightly tipped as he concentrated, he seemed oblivious to what had to be excruciating pain and was instead intent on the wire itself and on tracing out a pattern of how the strands had been wound and twisted.

Suddenly his eyes snapped upward towards the ceiling. His sharp gaze settled and stayed on the yellow hook.

An icy shiver tracked down Calleigh's spine. "You know who's doing this, don't you?" she whispered.

Horatio nodded slowly, jaw working, eyes on the hook.

"Do you want to talk about it now or later?"

He bowed his head, refusing to look at her. "I don't ever want to talk about it."


	8. Camera

_Thanks to my beta, Corine, who I hope will stick with me for the rest of the story. On line again, huh, Becs? Sounds like a life to me. Showpopper, welcome on board, please join us for the rest of the ride. And DeathofMe, I didn't see that one coming …Raymond, huh? I hope you won't be disappointed._

_**hc/hc/hc**_

Calleigh bit her lip. She wasn't going to push him to talk, not now, it would only be an excuse to delay what had to happen next. There was nothing sharp or strong enough available to cut the wire so the only choice she had was to find an end and start untwisting it. Ridges of dried blood that had crusted over broke away and fresh blood flowed freely, making it almost impossible to see what she was doing. Her fingers quickly got sticky and she swallowed down firmly on top of the queasiness rising in her throat. After a minute Calleigh had to run to the bathroom for cold water and wring a wet cloth out over top of his wrists to rinse away enough blood so that she could continue.

Horatio mumbled something as the cold water ran in rivulets down his chest and she leaned in close above his pain tense face to hear what he was saying. "Slide the chair over… a little to your right. Don't block the camera."

Calleigh gasped in shock. Her upper body jerked around, eyes frantically skimming the edges of the room until she found it -- a video camera mounted on a metal bracket in the corner near the door, lens trained with exact precision on the bed. Quickly she spun around again, turning her back to whoever was watching, and concentrated on Horatio's face. His colour had faded to a very scary shade of gray and a muscle was twitching in his cheek. Calleigh viciously jerked the chair a few inches to the side so that the son of a bitch on the other end of the lens could see it too.

Swallowing her anger down a throat so tight that it hurt, Calleigh gently lifted Horatio's hands up and placed a couple of folded towels on his chest. Carefully she rested his wrists on the soft cotton, feeling eyes crawl unpleasantly on her back as she started in on the wire again. Teasing and untwisting inch after agonizing inch she had to pause ever so often to flush Horatio's blood away with cold water. Gradually she became aware of soft almost inaudible whimpering and it cut her to the heart until, with a start, she realized that she was the one making the anguished sounds, not Horatio. Angrily Calleigh squeezed her lips tight together, wondering if he'd heard, even worse wondering how good the audio pickup was on the camera.

_God,_ she prayed, _I hope it's crappy, or I just gave this bastard what he wants the most._

An irresistible need to see what the camera was seeing, to steal a look at Horatio's face, crept over her. Calleigh knew it was a mistake but she went ahead and did it anyway, immediately regretting the decision. Silent tears were flowing down his cheeks and they had nothing whatsoever to do with the pain she was causing or the sounds she'd been making. Horatio wasn't aware of either.

Wordlessly Calleigh bent her head back over the delicate task of extricating the next bit of embedded wire. _So far so good,_ she consoled herself. There didn't appear to be any tendon damage and the major blood vessels were obviously intact or he would have bled to death long ago. _Thank you, Sweet Jesus, for small favours,_ she thought, as she doggedly kept on going. When a fingernail broke with a sudden snap of sound she was so focused she didn't even notice.

Her work as a CSI often required endless patience and precision and Calleigh possessed an almost unlimited supply of both along with a well developed sense of time, yet she had no idea how much had passed when Horatio's hands finally slipped limply apart. One wrist was still wrapped in multiple loops of wire but the other was completely free. Tenderly Calleigh picked up Horatio's hand, cradled the backs of his fingers in her own while she rested his palm lightly against her cheek.

When she looked up at him through the tears suspended in her lashes he was no longer crying and his eyes were open. They drifted across her face without really seeing it, wandered into the camera lens, steadied, and stayed there. Calleigh felt an unreasonable rush of jealousy flood through her.

"I think I'm passing out," he said very calmly, yanking her attention back abruptly where it belonged.

"I don't blame you," she gulped. "I'll try to finish the other wrist while you're asleep. Don't leave me alone too long, okay?"

"Prom'ss..." he slurred as his head slumped gently on the pillow. His lids dropped down not quite all the way and the small slits of pale blue that remained were now mercifully free from all kinds of pain. As Calleigh continued to pry the stubborn wire, the eyes of Horatio's torturer burning holes into her back, she was amazed at how ridiculously happy that made her.

_**hc/hc/hc**_

"The red hairs we found in Calleigh's bed. Three of them don't belong to H."

"What?" Eric looked up from his monitor and focused blankly on a very intense Ryan Wolfe. "What did you say?"

"You heard me. But if you think that's freaky…" Ryan waved minutes-old lab results in front of Eric's nose. "The Y chromosomes from two of the hairs are a perfect match with Horatio's DNA. The bastard who did this is his father."

"Wait a minute." Eric shook his head, unwilling to process this much unwelcome information in so little time. DNA didn't lie, and Y chromosomes were passed down unaltered from father to son, so what Ryan saidhad to be true, but…

"Horatio's _father?_ I thought he was dead."

"Nope." Ryan shook his head. "I just ran it. Amery Jason Caine. Got his wrap sheet right here, served two non concurrent sentences, one in the state of Florida, one in New York. Released from…" Ryan flipped over a corner of paperwork… "Auburn Correctional Facility eleven days ago. _Eleven days,_ Delko. He's our man. Probably responsible for the shooting in the parkade as well."

"What was he in prison for?" The tremulous voice came from somewhere near the door. Both Eric and Ryan turned heads to find Alexx Woods there, her hand gripping the edge of the layout table for what they hoped was only moral support.

"Most recent conviction was for kidnapping, forcible confinement and aggravated assault." Ryan swallowed visibly. "One before that was murder. First degree."

The other two occupants of the lab just stared at him until he summoned up enough spit to answer their wordless question.

"Rosalind Caine. Horatio's mother."


	9. Action

_DeathOfMe, kudos on catching the Auburn thing, just couldn't resist when I came across it. LOL. I don't' think anybody else noticed but us, girl! Kerstin, hey, glad you're reviewing, I hope there's nobody out there who's enjoying this and not letting me know! Now, about the wait :apologetic grin: I got a little lost until Corine straightened me out on some stuff that was bugging me and this chapter went through a final rewrite late last night. Hope you like the result, let me know cuz I LIVE for your glowing :bashful grin: reviews. Why else would I subject myself to all this agony when I could just sit back and read you guys?_

_**hc/hc/hc**_

True to his word Horatio didn't leave her for long. His eyelids struggled open and Calleigh was there, dispelling the much too familiar nightmare that had blackened his mind even in unconsciousness.

"Hey, Handsome. How do you feel?" she asked brightly, the wattage in her smile more than enough to make up for both the nightmare and the pathetic light bulb overhead.

"Wonderful," he mumbled, blinking, after thinking about it for a minute.

"Be honest," Calleigh chided, moistening his dry lips with cool water from a glass she had placed beside the bed.

"Comparatively speaking, wonderful," he qualified, shifting just a bit into a more comfortable position, her hands immediately helping. "My shoulders don't hurt. What on earth did you do?"

She threw him a saucy grin, happy that she had helped. "I reduced them for you. I wasn't a candy striper back in Louisiana for four years for nothing you know."

"Calleigh," he objected, "you're not strong enough to…"

"Don't sell this Southern girl short, Horatio," she silenced his protest. "The hardest part of shoulder reduction is getting the patient to relax. You were unconscious, it wasn't a problem."

_And there was no way on the face of the earth I could have done it with you awake,_ Calleigh finished to herself. _No way._

She ran her fingers fondly and somewhat intimately through his hair and after Horatio got over the intimate part he realized that the heavy layer of bandages was gone. With considerable relief he reached up and scratched an itchy spot on his scalp, glancing at her quizzically.

"I wanted to check your head injury but I couldn't bear to reuse those disgusting bloody things," Calleigh confessed, making a face. "I just taped some gauze over the surgical site to keep it clean. Everything looks fine, the drain's nearly dry."

"Can I sit up?" he wondered.

"No!" she countered firmly, grabbing his arm in case he did something stupid. "In case you've forgotten you still have a knife buried in your chest."

Horatio raised his head a bit, glanced down at himself and winced. Calleigh was entirely right, the knife was still lodged neatly under his collar bone. He noted how she had wrapped and supported the hilt with tape and a ton of gauze to keep it from moving. It was uncomfortable but if he kept still it didn't really hurt, not like his wrists which were almost but not quite unbearable. They were certainly easier to look at though, resting wire-free and neatly bandaged on the sheet that covered him up to the middle of his chest. He sighed heavily, touched and embarrassed all in the same instant.

"Cal, I'm sorry. You shouldn't have had to do all of this for me…"

"I could think of worse things, Horatio," she reassured him, laying a finger over his lips. "But enough small talk. You've obviously figured out who's doing this and probably what to expect next. I need to know, too."

"No. You don't." He pulled away from her hand and averted his eyes, absolutely refusing to look at her. Calleigh cupped his stubbly face in her palm and turned it towards her, hands not quite as gentle as they had been before. She waited until the blue eyes finally made hesitant contact.

"_Yes. I do!"_ she insisted. "What's going to happen next, Horatio? Is he going to come through that door and rape me? Hang me up like he did you? Torture me, or you again?" Fear had sharpened Calleigh's features as well as her voice. She sucked in a lungful of stale air, remembered the camera and made an effort to lower her voice. "I'm locked up in this room, too, Horatio, with this perv's eyes crawling all over my back. I feel like I'm undressed and I can't even bear to look into the lens. I think I have the right to know what to expect."

"Oh my God. Calleigh. Of course you do." Tenderly Horatio reached out and eased a strand of white blonde hair lovingly behind her ear. He took her hand back, rubbing the fingers gently, and spoke so softly she knew it was meant for her alone. "His name is Amery. He's a coward, always has been. As long as we keep him sufficiently amused with my suffering and your reaction, he won't show his face."

"I don't care if he shows his face. I'd like nothing better than to stick my fist in it as a little thank you for all his trouble."

That won a small smile. "Actually, I'd enjoy watching you do it. But I think just waiting it out would probably be smarter. The team will find us soon enough, Calleigh."

"And until they do? You just lay there and suffer? I don't expect that, Horatio. I expect you to tell me who this bastard is and what the hell is going on so we can figure a way out of this. Together," Calleigh hissed, challenging him.

"_Is_ there a way out?" he wondered somewhat emptily, eyes straying over her shoulder towards the camera she couldn't look at.

"Of course there is," she insisted as she touched his arm to draw his eyes back to her face. Her eyes were shining. "It's the most important thing I ever learned from you. On the day you hired me and every single day since you've consistently taught me there's always an answer, always a way out."

When he shook his head, uncertainty still lingering, she sighed. "Were you unconscious the whole time, Horatio? Do you have any idea where we are?"

His eyes instantly sharpened and she couldn't help a small smile. It was what she'd hoped would happen when she asked.

"I did come to while they were transporting us," he told her. "I was aware of movement, fast but fairly smooth, highway I'd guess. I was groggy and half out of it for what seemed like a long time and the motion never changed, so I doubt we're in Miami or anywhere close. Eventually I woke up enough to realize I was in the back of a large truck and there was enough light coming in around the door that I could see you on the floor a couple of feet away. I was so afraid when you didn't speak to me, Cal, when you didn't move…"

She felt his fingers tighten and reciprocated.

"…but then I smelled the chloroform on your clothes and dared to hope you were okay. I slid a little closer and I could tell that you were breathing, but my chest hurt and I passed out again. When I came to we were in here and there were two of them, they were lifting me. I didn't see their faces, I was twisting around trying to find out if you were in the room somewhere. When they hooked my wrists over and let go I…I screamed, I think. Someone did. Oh, God, Calleigh…it hurt…so bad and I thought… I thought maybe you were…"

"Shhh. It's all right, Horatio. They didn't hurt me."

"But I didn't know," he insisted. "I could hardly breathe…it hurt so much…I started to spin around and then I saw you…on the bed…you were stirring. That's when the light…the light went out…and I…"

"Shhh," she silenced him a second time. His voice was raspy and he was clearly tiring himself out. "Let's see if you can handle a drink of water."

He propped himself up with an effort on his elbows, wincing, as a sharp pain flared in his chest.

"Damn it, Horatio, can't you just wait for once and let someone help you?" Calleigh grumbled as she moved quickly to support the back of his neck with one hand, holding the glass to his lips with the other. She was pleased to see him manage several successful swallows before gently helping him lower his head back to the pillow.

"I checked out the room while you were unconscious," she told him, letting him rest. "We must be underground, there's absolutely no light coming from anywhere and the walls are cool to the touch. It's cold underfoot, too, the rug's laid over concrete. There's just a small bathroom through that doorway, no window in there either, and the door leading out to wherever is an inch and a half of solid steel, bolted on the other side. We can't force our way out of here and I have no intention of just sitting here practicing my first aid while you're laying there hurting and in need of real medical care."

Calleigh lowered her voice to a barely perceptible whisper. "Somehow we have to get to him, Horatio, make him angry enough to unlock the door and come to us. What if I just block the camera so he can't see what we're doing?"

"No." His voice was weak, his eyes fearful. He would give his life in an instant to save hers, she knew it for a certainty, and it hurt her so badly to see him like this. Damn she wished she could knock some sense into his stubborn red head.

"Horatio, you know who he is," Calleigh's eyes begged, her back to the camera as she half-whispered half-just-moved-her-lips at him. "You know how to reach him, how to make him come to us, how to make him so angry he'll forget to be careful. Just tell me and we'll make it happen."

"Cal, I…" His voice choked on itself, eyes retreating inward to something she couldn't see. "I… I can't. I never could."

"Horatio, quit scaring me!" she shouted. "You're supposed to be stronger than this!"

_You can't do it, can you, Horatio? And she knows it, just like your mother knew._

The voice taunted like it had all his life. Amery Caine's voice. His father. His beloved fucking father. Horatio clenched his fists and the burning pain that flared in his wrists was so intense it took his breath away. He squeezed his eyes tight shut to keep from crying like he had the last time the wires had bitten in. The little boy locked in a closet was still there, inside, trembling as hard as he had been in the dark on that day forty years ago.

_Remember how black it was in the closet, Horatio, how much the wire hurt your wrists? I know you do. You didn't even try to get away, you were too afraid to move. You still are, aren't you?_

Horatio pictured his father gloating over the words at this very moment, hidden, whispering, watching with intense pleasure from the other side of one of the walls. Anger started to bubble up inside him. It rose up his throat like bile until hatred was all he tasted.

_You're afraid, aren't you? Too afraid to do anything._

Horatio snapped his eyes open and jerked his head and shoulders off the pillow, completely ignoring Calleigh's cry of alarm. He shot a hostile look directly into the camera.

"Not anymore," he said loudly, very clear. "Not of you." His eyes turned to Calleigh and instinct leaned her over slightly to the left, blocking the camera's ability to focus on his face.

"Follow my lead, Cal," he whispered. "If he thinks I'm dead it'll piss the hell out of him. He'll come, just to make sure, but we have to make it damn convincing."

Horatio's right hand moved upward towards the knife in his chest and while Calleigh was still mid-reach to stop him his fingers found the hilt, grasped it firmly and pulled the blade out in one smooth, unflinching motion.

As the tip withdrew from his flesh Horatio gasped in sharp surprise at the pain he'd caused himself. His head fell back on the pillow, his hand flopped sideways, the knife falling softly onto the sheet. His lips moved like he was trying to say something but nothing came out and his eyelids started to flutter.

The first aid kit was still lying open next to the bed. Calleigh grabbed a thick pad of gauze, placed it squarely on the gushing wound and pressed down hard with one palm on top of the other. Horatio cried out as the pain and the pressure jolted him back, wide awake. Sapphire eyes snapped open and found hers instantly.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I know it hurts but I have to stop the bleeding." Calleigh's voice was shaking, her hands on the gauze steady. "Oh, God. What the hell were you thinking?"

He was breathless, trying to pull some air into his startled lungs, trying to pull away from the pain she was causing. Calleigh felt something suddenly warm and wet on her palms and looked down to see bright blood soaking up through an inch of gauze. Biting her lip she reached for a towel, pressing it on top. Horatio was all ready so weak he simply couldn't afford to bleed this heavily and in desperation to stop it she found herself pushing down even harder. Rapidly the towel turned red, rivulets of blood escaping everywhere, running down his sides and soaking into the sheets and the mattress.

After another minute, when things still hadn't improved, Calleigh pulled everything away from the wound, rung out the cloth she'd used before and wiped the area clean. A little sob caught in her throat as she shifted sideways, making sure the camera had a clear shot of the deep puncture in the muscles of his chest. The edges gaped apart and blood welled up steadily in the center with no sign of slowing down. Calleigh placed her hands directly on either side of the wound and firmly pressed the skin and underlying tissue together. Horatio moaned, half conscious, half not.

"Didn't mean…to drop…it…" he got out, barely audible, his fingers trembling as he tried to stretch them towards the hilt of the knife.

"Be still!" she hissed and started counting off the seconds in her head, holding everything motionless for fifteen endless minutes and then five more just to be safe before easing back on the pressure just a tiny bit. Blood was oozing but no longer pouring. Horatio's lips were moving faintly.

"Don't speak," she cautioned him. Her eyes flicked briefly to the knife. "And don't move, not even a little bit." Calleigh frowned as she studied the knife wound. He would need some serious stitches to close it permanently but she would do the best she could with tape for now.

Horatio was shivering visibly by the time she finished. Calleigh snapped away the blood soaked sheet and shook out the blanket, covering all of him, his outstretched arm as well as the knife. She tucked him in quickly up to the chin like a child but he continued to shake, so violently she hoped the wound wouldn't reopen from the movement. His lips had the faintest tinge of blue and his forehead, when she touched it, was cool and clammy. Recognizing real signs of shock Calleigh checked the pulse in his neck and found it faint but racing.

"Don't you go shocky on me, Horatio," she warned him, bending close. "Come on, don't you dare! You stay with me, do you hear? Horatio, do you hear me?"

Apparently he didn't. He was breathing in short little panting gasps that abruptly, along with the shaking, stopped.

_What was it he'd said? We have to make it damn convincing? Well, it was._

"He's dead," she whispered, blinking, and a moment later she screamed it.

_"He's dead!"_

Every instinct, every nerve in Calleigh's body screamed at her to bend over and check, to make sure this was just damn good acting. Instead she whirled around in a tornado of blonde hair and faced the camera fully for the first time.

_"He's dead, you sick son of bitch! That's not quite what you wanted, is it? Well it's what you got."_

Overcome with sobs Calleigh fell to her knees, breathless and not faking a fucking thing. Sweet Jesus, what if he wasn't faking either? The symptoms of shock when she checked him had been all too real. What if his heart really had stopped and he wasn't breathing? She could be doing CPR and mouth to mouth right this minute, saving his life instead of playing at keeping this bastard amused.

Calleigh snapped. She couldn't do it any more, she had to know. Tipping a curtain of hair across her face she crawled over the blood soaked sheet to the side of the bed. Softly resting her cheek on his shoulder Calleigh nestled her face against his and prayed as she waited for his breath to tickle her eyelashes.

Eventually she lifted her tear streaked face back to the lens. "You couldn't face him could you?" she choked out. "Not in person, not now that he's all grown up. You don't have the guts." Slow but deadly venom crept into Calleigh's eyes and her voice.

"I know who you are, I figured it out. I'll bet you like doing it to women, don't you, Mr. Caine, and little kids who can't stand up for themselves? Well I'm a woman and _your son_," Calleigh jerked her head towards the sunken shape under the blanket on the bed, "can't protect me any more. I'm all alone and I'm waiting. Waiting for you."

She sneered into the camera, putting all the contempt she could muster in her voice. "Don't be long."

He wasn't.


	10. Three Red Hairs

_**Chapter Ten**_

_**Three Red Hairs**_

_I want to dedicate this story to my Dad, who passed away April 23, 2006._

Alexx sat down at the layout table, not certain her legs were going to get her too much further into the room. The two CSIs wearily pulled up stools to join her. As the trio traded glances in silence Alexx couldn't help but notice how absolutely exhausted the two young men looked, Eric in particular.

_Poor babies,_ she thought, wishing she could coax the pair of them into the break room for a nap. Obviously neither one had bothered to go home last night and due to the parkade shooting, the fiasco at the hospital and the deep stitches decorating his face she knew Eric hadn't slept for thirty-six hours prior to that. He was no doubt running on less than empty. Ryan seemed pale and strained but coping. Alexx herself, exhausted from a two day emotional rollercoaster, had actually managed to sleep for a couple of hours just before sunrise.

"How did Horatio's mother die?" Ryan asked, rubbing his face with his hands as he waited for an answer he didn't really want to hear. He was trying his best to stay emotionally detached the way H would want him to be but these two were making it increasingly more and more difficult. What the hell was Alexx doing here anyway, acting like a CSI, when she should be in the morgue doing an autopsy or something?

_Nobody's dead_, Wolfe reminded himself sharply.

Alexx spoke in a monotone. "Horatio came home from high school and found her on their kitchen floor, covered in blood, her wrists wired together. I'm surprised he told me that much, it's all he ever said and I didn't expect anything more. He never spoke of his father. He hadn't been living with them for some time and it just never occurred to me that he was the one who…" The M.E. closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay. Let's move past it for now. Tell me about the blood in Calleigh's condo. It was Horatio's, am I right?"

"Yeah." Eric nodded, the angry scar on his cheek particularly prominent under the florescent lab lighting. "The blood was H's, all of it. We found chloroform on the second pillow, that's how he subdued Calleigh."

"We know how he got them out of the building," Ryan volunteered. "A condo on the fifteenth floor was expecting a furniture delivery and one of the elevators was locked out for them. A couple of eye witnesses saw what they assumed were movers using it in the morning. Not much of a description, just that they were dressed for the part and pushing a dolly."

"According to the super, though," Eric picked up, "the real delivery truck didn't show until lunch time. The dolly and some tarps turned up behind the building by the dumpsters and we got the make and model of a large delivery van from tread marks in the alley. The actual furniture guys said they were never back there. There's a state wide APB out on the truck, nothing so far."

Alexx nodded. "So Horatio's father had an accomplice?"

"Uh huh. Also with red hair, as unlikely as that seems. The lab report confirms it." Ryan sighed, wishing someone else, _anyone_ else, had picked up the DNA results. "But there's something else here you guys need to see and you won't believe it."

Eric sighed. "Yeah, sure we will. Try us."

Ryan neatly extracted three sheets of lab work from the file folder and laid them out in a precise row on the layout table.

Three_ sheets? What the hell was it Wolfe had said earlier about the DNA?_

Eric's brain shot into overdrive and he mentally kicked himself in the head for being an idiot who couldn't count to three. If the Y chromosomes from two of the red hairs were a perfect match to Horatio's that still left one hair unaccounted for. Since red was relatively rare as a hair colour he had made the natural assumption that the three that weren't Horatio's must have all come from the same donor. Delko had broken his own first rule. Assumptions were something a CSI wasn't supposed to make.

Wolfe stood up and cleared his throat. He had no desire to look at the lab work again and he felt shaky, almost sick in an odd sort of way. Maybe it was the last time he'd seen Calleigh that was doing it, remembering the big, breathtaking smile that lit up the locker room as she consoled him after a particularly crappy day. They had worked together for over a year now, rumours about the smile floated freely around the department, but that was the first and only time he'd been lucky enough to experience it for himself. God, he hoped it wasn't the last…

"…Does anyone else want coffee?" Wolfe broke up his own round of depressing thoughts with the sudden need to do something. When nobody answered he slipped out the door anyway, in search of three coffees completely devoid of anything but caffeine.

Eric and Alexx bent intently over the layout table, devouring the DNA results that Ryan had already seen. Horatio's name was on the first sheet, DNA obtained from the internal control sample they were all required to submit. Amery Caine's was on the second, DNA in this case having come from hairs found at the crime scene in Calleigh's condo. The Y chromosomes from the two samples matched, proving that Amery was Horatio's biological father.

Processing at the same speed two sets of dark eyes went on to the third page which had no name as yet and was simply labeled with the case number and the scribbled comment "Red Hair--Unknown Donor". While there were a few commonalities with Horatio's DNA it wasn't enough to draw any positive conclusions about a relationship. Alexx reached out and slid Horatio's results off to one side.

As they began to compare Amery's DNA with that of his accomplice the X chromosomes immediately drew their attention, the ones passed down maternally. They were more than just similar, they were a perfect match. Amery's accomplice was no longer entirely unknown. The two men had the same biological mother.

"Family affair," Eric muttered. "Damn. I didn't even know H had an uncle."

"God, he would have hated this," Alexx said softly. Tears sprang to her eyes as she realized what she'd said. "_Is_ hating this," she corrected forcibly. _"Is."_

_**hc/hc/hc**_

Watching the steel door swing inward into the room Calleigh had absolutely no idea what to expect. Her imagination, which often tended toward the romantic, pictured an older perhaps even charming version of Horatio. The logical part of her mind insisted that this man, so different in character, would be a complete opposite physically as well. When Amery Caine strode angrily into the room he was somewhere in between the two.

What surprised Calleigh most was that he didn't look nearly as old as she'd expected him too. His hair, instead of being gray, was a dull red, longish and curling around his shirt collar at the back. His body was still straight and strong, he was Horatio's height, slightly underweight but wiry and not the least bit frail. The Glock 17 in his left hand, she noticed, was rock steady.

It was Amery Caine's eyes, though, that grabbed her attention and froze it like a deer in headlights. They were the same beautiful blue as Horatio's but there the resemblance ended. There was no need for a pair of sunglasses here, nothing vulnerable, nothing she could in any way touch. Yet somehow she had to.

Amery took another step into the room and hooked the door with his foot, kicking it shut behind him. Centering the Glock on Calleigh's stomach he quickly switched his gaze over her shoulder towards the bed.

"You killed him," she accused in a voice rough with emotion. Her words had the desired effect, pulling his attention back to her.

"Did I?" He raised his voice. "Sit up, Horatio. I know you're faking. Sit up or I'll shoot her in the stomach."

Nothing moved in the room. Calleigh held her breath hoping that more than one of them was bluffing.

Horatio's father yanked a pair of flex cuffs out of his jacket pocket and threw them at her face. Calleigh reached up and caught them neatly.

"Put 'em on."

"Afraid I'll hurt you?" she purred. God, how she hated him, not just for now but for everything she imagined had gone before.

"Cuffs. Now. Or I _will_ shoot you in the stomach." His voice wasn't like Horatio's either.

"How subtle," she taunted nastily. He ignored her, his concentration again straying towards the motionless body on the bed. Calleigh moved immediately to distract him, shrugging a smooth wall of hair over one shoulder as she defiantly fitted the nylon flex cuffs around her wrists.

A_t least it isn't wire,_ she consoled herself, pulling the tabs until the cuffs were snug but not uncomfortably tight.

"Good. Now get away from the bed," he grated, jerking the Glock to indicate direction. "Into the corner. Move."

As Calleigh began to back up his eyes flicked towards Horatio again and the weapon twitched. Licking his lips nervously Amery again reached into his jacket pocket and Calleigh nearly lost it when he slowly slid out a coil of wire. Before she could stop herself her eyes flew to the yellow hook in the ceiling. Amery waited for them to come back to his face before he spoke, smiling. His teeth were yellow.

"We'll save this for later I think." He set the coil carefully on the blanket at the foot of the bed and smoothed his hand in a loving caress across it.

_Oh, God. Horatio._

"Keep moving. Into the corner."

Calleigh continued to inch her way backwards away from the bed, desperately trying to come up with a diversion, something to distract him thoroughly so Horatio could make his move. Problem was she would prefer to create it without getting a bullet in the stomach for her trouble and with the cuffs on there was only so much she could do.

Calleigh jutted her chin out defiantly. "What did you do to him when he was little?"

Amery smiled again, quite possibly the coldest thing she'd ever seen. "You got it all wrong, sister, not that it matters now. The little shit deserved everything he ever got from Daddy."

"I doubt that."

"He was a little coward, always thinking his way out of things, always pretending to be something he wasn't." Amery's eyes darted sideways, running hungrily along the contours of the blanket. "Pretending now, Horatio? Let's find out." Without any warning at all he swung the Glock to the side and fired it.

Horatio's body jerked with the impact of the bullet, his head slipping slightly to one side as it stilled. Calleigh screamed, covering the lower part of her face with her bound hands. No one could have faked that, not without a glimmer of expression, not even Horatio. Blood began to creep through the fibers of the blanket.

Jaw tense, Horatio's father swore a string of obscenities. Robbed of one victim he viciously went for the other. Sweeping the coil of wire into his hand Amery turned his back on the bed for the first time, advancing on Calleigh.

Horatio raised his head for a quick look, snapped the blanket off sideways with one hand and lunged up off the mattress, knife in the other. He was gray, he was shaking, and he was the most beautiful sight Calleigh had ever seen.

The Glock wavered as Amery heard movement behind him and Calleigh launched herself, praying her reflexes were faster than the old man's were.

They had to be. They were. But not by a lot. He was pulling the trigger when she tackled him, bringing her bound wrists down, hard, on the wrist of his gun hand. The Glock went off, fluff and stuffing spraying outward in all directions as the bullet buried itself harmlessly in the mattress. Horatio half-charged half-fell towards them and the knife blade with all of his weight behind it buried itself in Amery's back.

As Horatio staggered and went down so did his father, falling forward into Calleigh. The combined weight of both men toppled her backwards and her head slammed into the hard floor, leaving her momentarily dazed.

"Cal…"

From where she lay pinned under Amery's body Calleigh turned her head and saw the barest hint of movement as Horatio struggled to say her name. She fought and clawed and shoved her way free, crawling across the rug to the man she loved. Her eyes skimmed over his body, frantic to find the gunshot wound.

It was a graze to the upper arm, bleeding but shallow. Faint with relief Calleigh squirmed her way under Horatio's upper body and just held him as best she could with the cuffs on. The knife wound had reopened. It was bleeding sluggishly but not gushing like before and for a moment she dared to hope that everything would be okay. But as Calleigh gazed into Horatio's eyes they were so glassy she couldn't get past it.

_He's giving up_. The horrified thought solidified quickly into a lump of cold certainty in her stomach. _He saved me and now he's giving up._

"Hang on, Horatio," she pleaded, resisting the impulse to shake him violently awake or at the very least rock him gently. Instead Calleigh held him ever so still, wishing she could stop time as well as movement. "Please just hang on, okay?. I'm going to get help. It'll be all right, I promise."

He began convulsing mildly, she could feel the faint, surging tremors against her arms, and it was _so hard_ to even think about letting go. But she had to move, and quickly. Horatio needed immediate medical attention and Amery Caine's accomplice could very well be just a few steps away down the hall.

"Never again," she promised them both as she slid her arms free and settled him gently back down on the thin layer of carpet. "If you wait for me this one last time I'll never leave you again, Horatio. As long as I live. I swear. Just please wait for me."

Calleigh placed a feather light kiss against his cheek and let her fingers linger for a long instant in his hair before crawling to Amery Caine's body where a quick finger on his throat verified that he was dead. She scrabbled hastily through his pockets then, hoping for a cell phone, and felt her heart jump into her throat when she actually found one. Yanking it out Calleigh immediately pressed 911 but nothing happened. Impatiently she squinted at the tiny display.

No signal.

_Of course there isn't,_ she reprimanded herself. _We're probably too far underground. Get a grip and get moving._

Calleigh tucked the precious phone into the waistband of her pajamas and pried the Glock out of the dead man's fingers. Instinctively she checked to make sure it was ready to fire, then listened at the door for a moment before cautiously easing it open. Turning to look back at Horatio she could just make out the slight rise and fall of his chest.

"Wait for me, love," she whispered, then slid her slender body cautiously outside to find out what waited on the other side of the steel door.


	11. Did I?

_**CHAPTER ELEVEN**_

_**Did I?**_

_Thanks, everybody, for all the PMs, prayers, v-hugs and cyber-flowers, you guys are the absolute best. I'm really sorry for the long wait between the last few chapters, let me know how you like this one._

_**hc/hc/hc**_

The Florida Hospital Medical Centre was the largest in Orlando and the two strangers from Miami took several wrong turns before finally finding Calleigh all by herself in a spacious fourth floor waiting room. Wearing bleach faded hospital scrubs that made her look particularly pale and fragile she was curled up sleeping on one of the room's several couches.

Alexx dragged a cube chair close. The décor was modern and Calleigh actually would have looked somewhat comfortable on the sectional if one could have ignored the dark smudges under her eyes and the tear tracks on her cheeks. Sitting down Alexx began gently stroking the blonde hair while Eric crouched down beside them so that his face was the first thing Calleigh saw when she blinked open bewildered blue-green eyes.

She gasped when she did, struggling upward as if to free herself from something they couldn't see, not waking up at all the way they had intended. Until this instant both had totally forgotten that Calleigh hadn't seen Eric since before the stitches and the bruising.

"It's okay!" He just grabbed her quick, clasped her upper body to his chest and held her close while Alexx continued to smooth her hair, fingers unconsciously forming the semblance of a loose braid in the long, blonde strands. Calleigh started to cry, much like the last time Eric had tried to hold onto her, but at least she wasn't struggling to get away.

"Oh, God, Eric, it looks awful. I'm so sorry," she mumbled into his shirt between sobs.

"Honest, Cal, it's okay, I'm fine. Look at me? Please," he begged but she just shook her head and buried her face deeper.

"Are you okay, baby?" Alexx crooned, rubbing Calleigh's shoulders as she continued to sob in Eric's embrace with no sign of letting up. The two exchanged concerned glances over the blonde head. They were worried about her and Horatio as well, but the nurse at the desk had informed them he was in surgery at present so they knew he was alive and being cared for. They would be patient, look after Calleigh and wait until she was ready to talk about what had happened.

Eventually the blonde CSI pushed away slightly from Eric's chest, trying to catch her breath, and glanced up timidly into his face. Flinching she drew a fingertip tenderly along the raised edge of the healing slash, pausing for a moment at each stitch and each tiny bandage.

"See? Still the same gorgeous face all the girls love to touch," Eric teased with a wink and a little giggle escaped. Alexx handed Calleigh a tissue as she leaned back, sniffing, and started to relax.

"Horatio's in surgery," she said quietly and they nodded, waiting, while she dabbed at her eyes. "They're closing the knife wound in his chest. I guess it'll need stitches at different depths?" She glanced at Alexx to see if that made sense and the M.E. nodded.

"It bled an awful lot." Calleigh shivered, remembering the rivers of red and exactly how his cold skin had felt as she held the wound together for minutes that seemed endless. "He was convulsing and he crashed in the chopper but they got him back really quickly."

Alexx nodded. "I'm not surprised. Florida Flight 1 is the best in the country. Thank God you were able to find a phone and call in time."

"Yeah, they saved him. And he saved me. I didn't do anything except find my way out of a building and dial 911." Calleigh dismissed everything else she had done without a thought, her eyes oddly haunted. "There's more, but the knife wound is the worst. Well…not the worst, but it's what almost killed him."

_Not the worst but it's what almost killed him? _Alexx wondered what her friend could possibly mean by that.

Eric sat down on the couch next to Calleigh and drew her close. She nestled comfortably into his chest, drawing her cheek back and forth against the stubble on his chin as he rested an arm around her.

"Are _you_ okay, sweetheart?" Alexx wondered.

"I'm not hurt. How did you get here so fast?"

"We had an APB out on the delivery truck," Eric explained, "and the State Police found it abandoned near SR-91 not far from Orlando. So we'd all ready driven over half way up when we got the call about you and Horatio. We dropped Wolfe off at the scene on our way here. Calleigh, is there anything we need to know right now, anything that can't wait?"

Calleigh shook her head and sighed. All too soon she'd have to relate and relive their captivity with all of the awful details. She wasn't looking forward to it but at least Eric and Alexx were here now and it would be easier than talking to Orlando PD.

That was later, though. For now, if she'd known even the smallest thing that could help track down the accomplice who was still at large it would have been the first thing to leave her lips. But she didn't, not a single damn thing, and for the moment that left Horatio as her only real concern. Calleigh tilted her head to glance at Eric's wrist watch.

"Would you mind asking at the desk, Alexx, to see if Horatio's out of surgery yet? Dr. Swain said he'd check back with me but…"

"And here I am, Calleigh, checking back. Hello." A middle aged man with a kind face, still wearing blue-green surgical garb, approached and extended a hand towards Alexx who introduced herself and Eric. Dr. Swain shook hands with them both before perching on the edge of a chair, his surgical cap dangling in his hands. He worked the ties through his fingers as he spoke.

"Let me start by reassuring you all that Lieutenant Caine came through the surgery just fine. I've removed him from the critical list." He paused with a faint smile to watch the ripple of relief wash away the worst of the fear in the waiting room before continuing.

"The knife wound was deeper than we initially thought. The blade penetrated multiple layers of muscle but it was high enough in the chest where it didn't compromise any vital organs. With physiotherapy at a later date I believe he'll make a full recovery in that regard. The bullet wound on his arm was superficial, a few stitches to close the skin. His wrists did sustain some serious damage but as bad as they may look, Calleigh," he smiled encouragingly in her direction, "everything will heal, there's no permanent injury. He will have extensive scarring but nothing to keep him from full use of his hands. I know you were concerned about that."

Calleigh took a deep breath and let it out slowly. A big chunk of tension went with it. "Thank you," she nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"The wrists are, however, badly infected from the wire."

Alexx flinched and Eric tightened his grip on Calleigh's shoulders, both of them remembering how Horatio had found his mother's body with her wrists wired together. Dr. Swain observed their reactions with some concern but Calleigh seemed quite accepting of the information so he cautiously continued.

"We'll be starting him on a course of antibiotics to clear that up and he's also receiving IV fluids for dehydration as well as pain killers, of course. He's been through substantial upper body trauma not to mention shock and major blood loss so I expect him to take some time to heal and regain his strength."

"What about the previous head injury?" Alexx inquired, worried about the skull fracture that had seemed so serious only a couple of days ago. It seemed almost an afterthought now, in light of everything else.

"Based on the information Calleigh gave us we did extensive x-rays of the area and it's stable. All things considered I think we have a very good outcome here." He smiled kindly at Calleigh. "He's in recovery at the moment. Would you by any chance like to see him for just a few seconds?"

Calleigh was on her feet instantly, no time whatsoever between sitting and standing. Dr. Swain grinned and glanced apologetically at the others as he rose somewhat more slowly. "I'm sorry, but even one visitor in recovery is bending the rules a bit. I'll send her back to you shortly." He took Calleigh's elbow and gently steered her in the appropriate direction.

"The x-rays also show both shoulders settled nicely back in place. Good job," he congratulated her as they made their way into the hallway. Eric and Alexx exchanged raised eyebrows. There would be more than a few questions waiting for Calleigh when she came back to them.

_**hc/hc/hc**_

"Hi, Beautiful," he whispered as she stood beside the bed. Calleigh closed her eyes. Two tears slid down her cheeks, no more, only two.

"Hi, Handsome."

She sounded pretty wavery but he really wasn't in any kind of shape himself to judge. Still, he thought he'd better make sure.

"You 'kay, Cal?"

"Oh, Horatio." Her eyes opened, huge in the dimly lit room, and he felt her fingers close around his hand. "I am now. I'm more than okay. I'm wonderful."

"Yes. Yes, you are." His eyes drifted shut. "Tired…"

"I know. Do you think you could you stay awake just a little longer?"

It was more than a request, Calleigh sounded like she really, really needed him to. All ready sinking into sleep Horatio forced himself back upward through waves and waves of drugs and deep exhaustion, finally managing to surface again. He dragged his eyes open into narrow slits, tried to ease his aching shoulders into a more comfortable position and groaned softly. Calleigh heard the recovery room nurse rustle closer from behind.

"Where…"

"Shhh. Be still, please love, or they'll make me leave. This is Florida Hospital in Orlando. You're in the recovery room, you've just had surgery to close the knife wound. Everything's fine."

He shifted his legs a bit under the blankets but she noticed he was careful not to move his upper body again. "Doesn't feel fine," he grumbled and she smiled.

"It will, Horatio. I promise."

A shadow crossed his face and she could tell he was struggling through the drugs to remember what had happened, how he had gotten here. Suddenly she wished with all her heart she hadn't been so selfish a moment ago, that she'd just let him drift back off to sleep.

"I remember…I think I…" His eyes widened and he lifted his head a bit. "Cal? Did I…did I kill my father?"

The nurse was hurrying towards them now and in that instant all Calleigh wanted to do was find a painless way to ease Horatio back into healing sleep. Vacillating between the truth and a lie, both yes and no on the tip of her tongue, she didn't have a clue which answer, if either, would do it.

_**hc/hc/hc**_

Four hours later, settled in a small private room on the surgical ward, Horatio once again struggled to open his eyes. Alerted by a subtle change in his breathing Calleigh was right there waiting for him when he finally succeeded. He wasn't really seeing her at first but she smiled anyway and held it until the vagueness in his eyes eventually sharpened into a focus of sorts.

"Hi there," she whispered when he finally found her eyes with his. "Don't try and move too much, okay?" Calleigh had peeked under the sheet and the skimpy hospital gown earlier and found his arms and upper body swollen and discoloured into a single huge, painful bruise. The crisp white bandages on his chest, arm and wrists were far easier to deal with than the rest of him. Just looking brought tears to her eyes.

He sighed. Breathing hurt, never mind moving. But a third thing called thinking was also making itself felt on the list of painful things to do and after just a few seconds of clarity Horatio came to the abrupt conclusion that it hurt far worse that the others did. Going back to sleep wasn't an option either, he was feeling much too wide awake for that, so he bent his elbows, placed his palms flat on the mattress and pushed himself up slightly in the bed to see what would happen. Sure enough, thinking shot back down to the bottom of the list where it belonged as he just did his best to breathe in the deep, suffocating well of ripping pain he fell into.

Horatio managed a shallow gasp which didn't do much for the agony seizing his chest but it did at least get some air into his lungs. His arms and shoulders burned with a tearing sensation and it occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, the thinking thing wasn't quite so bad after all. He'd just concentrate on something simple, like breathing in some sort of a normal rhythm.

Someone was wiping his face with a cool cloth, running a soothing hand through his hair, readjusting the sheet around his shoulders, and as his screaming chest and arm muscles began to unclench a little bit the chemist in him realized that a dose of some kind of painkiller had just hit his system. As it quickly took the edge off he began to relax and realize that there had to be more than just one set of hands doing all of this to make him comfortable. Horatio took a hesitant but fairly normal breath, opened his eyes and squinted against the light.

"Hi, Alexx," he whispered while he waited for her to give him hell for moving. What was it she had said the last time, something about stupid male macho crap? Well he certainly deserved it and her anger would be a welcome distraction but damn it all she wasn't saying a word and he could tell from her close-up expression that she knew. Everything. Including how much it hurt -- the thinking, that is. The doctor in her would of course be perfectly aware of the rest and was no doubt responsible for the pain killer.

The fingers that had stroked his hair were Calleigh's, they still rested there, and Horatio welcomed the intimate sense of comfort they offered. He was just about to avert his gaze from Alexx's far too sympathetic one when Eric's concerned face appeared over the M.E.'s shoulder and managed to distract him thoroughly.

"Eric, my God. What happened?" he croaked, lifting his head slightly.

"Calleigh happened, remember?" Alexx reminded him quietly as she eased an extra pillow behind his neck. "No more sudden movements," she warned, close to his ear, "or you'll pull those deep stitches and end up back in surgery. We can raise the head of the bed if you want." She waited for his slight nod before giving Eric the go ahead to increase the angle of the electric bed. All three kept a protective eye on Horatio while that happened, relaxing when it didn't seem to cause any additional discomfort.

Calleigh felt his hot forehead and offered him a drink of water. "Are you warm enough?" she asked, after he took a few sips through the bent straw.

He wasn't really, but Horatio considered the weight of an extra blanket resting on his sore chest and suppressed a shiver. He wished everybody would just quit fussing and get down to business.

"I'm fine. I guess you all know about…" a muscle flinched in his cheek "…my father by now." He gazed in mute appeal at Calleigh for awhile before getting up the courage to continue. He couldn't quite make himself ask either of the others.

"Did I kill him, Cal?"

She shook her head, tears glistening, but it was Eric who spoke quietly after receiving a small nod of approval from Alexx. "H, you didn't kill your father. You killed your uncle."


	12. A Horrible Mistake

_**CHAPTER TWELVE**_

_**A Horrible Mistake**_

Horatio closed his eyes. He felt strangely detached from everything around him, it was like the room and its' occupants were holding their breath, waiting for him to do something. He had no idea what it could possibly be until Calleigh's fingers moved in his hair and reality snapped back into place. A reality that, for once, Horatio really didn't want to face.

"Okay, love?" she breathed in his ear.

"Mmm hmm. Another few seconds, please?"

"Whatever you need."

The room was no longer silent, rustling sounds and murmuring led Horatio to suspect that Eric and Alexx might be leaving. Forcing his eyes open he found he was right. All that was left of Eric was a broad back half way to the door and Alexx was just standing up, laying her hand softly on Calleigh's arm.

"Eric, wait," he urged hoarsely. "Please stay, both of you. We do need to talk. Just give me a minute to…to get my head around this."

With some reluctance they reclaimed their chairs, pulling them up close so he could speak without straining when he was ready. Alexx looked like she wanted to hug him while Eric seemed just plain uncomfortable. Calleigh was still standing at the head of the bed and Horatio turned his neck stiffly to take a good, hard look at her. She'd obviously had a chance to shower and change, albeit into hospital scrubs, but the dark smudges under her eyes told him she hadn't gotten much if any sleep at all. After everything they'd been through she had to be absolutely exhausted.

"Cal, sit down, too, please," he urged, relieved when she did. His gaze strayed to Eric's face, lingered along the healing slash but avoided the dark eyes. "So you're telling me, Eric, that the man I killed was my uncle, not my father."

"God, I'm sorry, Horatio," Calleigh broke in, finding his hand under the sheet. "I didn't realize he wasn't your father, I just assumed…"

"Yeah, I did, too," Horatio said grimly. "It's not your fault, Cal, you had no way of knowing what he looked like and all I saw was the back of his head. Uncle Shaun had red hair too, it runs in the family. Kind of a curse I guess." He shifted uncomfortably in the bed. It hurt to breathe and his throat was sore which made talking painful as well. Restlessly settling his gaze back on Eric he managed the eyes this time.

"We just found out ourselves, H," the younger man admitted. "Wolfe called a few minutes ago from the morgue with the DNA findings but that's all we have so far. Can you give us a full name?"

"Shaun Albert Curran. He's…he was…eight years younger than Amery but they were pretty tight once Shaun got old enough to tag along with his older brother to the bars and the track. They must have hooked up again when Amery got out of prison."

"Why on earth would they do this, Horatio?" Alexx asked softly.

"You knew about my mother's death, Alexx. I assume by now the rest of you do, too?"

All three looked almost as stricken as Horatio did and Calleigh nodded sadly on everybody's behalf. She herself had heard the story in the waiting room only a few hours before. Alexx felt an overwhelming rush of remorse for revealing something told to her in the strictest confidence, first to Eric and Ryan and then later to Calleigh.

"Horatio, I…"

"Alexx, don't, there's no need. Under these circumstances there was no other choice but to tell them. No other choice at all," he insisted, waiting for her to make eye contact before he turned back to Eric. "So you also realize that Amery was convicted for my mother's murder."

Eric nodded soberly.

"It was my testimony that tipped the jury and led to his conviction." No emotion leaked out with Horatio's words, he was certain of it, but he felt Alexx squeeze his hand anyway.

"Oh, honey, you weren't very old, were you?"

Horatio wanted to shrug it off like it didn't matter but his throbbing shoulders warned him not to and he behaved himself for her sake, lifting an eyebrow instead. "Old enough, Alexx. I was seventeen. The prosecutor kept my testimony for last. I told them about when I was six and seven, when Amery used to wrap the same kind of wire around my wrists and lock me in a closet overnight."

Slowly Horatio withdrew his hands from underneath the sheet. His fingers were trembling and he quickly curled them into fists. The movement cost him, they could all see it in his face as beads of perspiration instantly appeared. Alexx started to rise but settled back in her chair when Calleigh shook her head ever so slightly.

Horatio stared at the bandages, his eyes empty. "I never told anyone before I told that lawyer, but when I found Mum with her wrists the same way mine were I knew I had to." The story was coming out on it's own now in a lost voice, Horatio had withdrawn from the telling.

"I remember him standing up and shouting at the trial, struggling with the bailiffs as he tried to get at me. He said the next time he saw me he'd have a gun in his hand. Based on that alone I'm fairly certain he's the one who shot at me in the parkade."

"Is that…I mean…you haven't seen your father since that day in court?" Eric did a quick bit of math in his head, the number he came up with stunning him somewhat.

Horatio shook his head vaguely. "No. I haven't." He let his hands drop and they fell limply beside him, palms up. Everything from the waist up hurt unbearably and it was getting harder and harder to ignore it and keep going. He closed his eyes. "We had a hook in our garage, a big yellow one, way up high." His mind wandered, voice drifting away slightly with the rest of him. "Amery always said one day he'd…"

"Enough!" Calleigh and Alexx exclaimed in the same moment. Eric shuddered. No wonder H didn't refer to the bastard as Daddy.

"Horatio, you need to rest," Alexx insisted in her no-nonsense-doctor voice, although you certainly didn't need to be one to detect the pain here. "And Calleigh does, too. No arguments from either one of you."

There were none. Horatio was vaguely aware of soft voices and movement around him but it was just so much easier to keep his eyes closed and ignore it. Someone lowered the head of the bed and folded a cool cloth on his forehead. A large hand that had to be Eric's encased his in a brief, powerful squeeze. He wanted to return the younger man's gesture but when he tried to close his fingers the strength wasn't there anymore. He knew they were trembling again.

"Don't worry about anything, H," Eric's voice reassured him. "We'll catch up with Wolfe, bring him back for a visit and an update later when you've both had some sleep. And we'll find your father." He smoothed Horatio's hand back down on the sheet with a tenderness neither of the women had seen before, then turned and exited the room so abruptly that a concerned Alexx followed on his heels to make sure he was okay.

Once in the hallway Eric stopped short and the M.E. had to put the brakes on to keep from running into him. "Forget what I just said to H, Alexx, I'm not going anywhere. I'm camping right here for the duration." Eric widened his stance, folding his arms across his chest as if daring her to pose an argument of some sort.

Alexx's surprise lasted only an instant. "His father is still out there," she realized out loud. "Do you honestly think he'd try something, Eric? Here? And without Shaun to back him up?"

Eric shrugged. "I honestly don't know. Horatio just killed his brother. Do you really want to second guess _what_ this bastard will do?"

"No, I guess I don't. He's quite the piece of work." The M.E. smiled unexpectedly. "If you don't mind the company, Eric, I'll stay too. It sounds much better than going to a strange hotel by myself. I tried to convince Calleigh to share a room but she's adamant about staying with Horatio. I doubt we'll be able to pry her out of there for quite some time, if at all."

"How long will H…" a corner of Eric's lip lifted, "how long will _they_ be stuck in here?"

Alexx considered for a moment. "If it was anybody else I'd say a week to ten days, but we're dealing with Horatio here, so …four days? If we tie him down to the bed?"

"Yeah, sounds about right," Eric chuckled. "Listen, why don't you get us some coffee, Alexx, while I call Wolfe and try to round up some comfortable chairs. It might be a long night…"

_"Cal?"_

It was Horatio's voice, rough, panic stricken and loud enough to be heard through the closed door. Eric spun one-eighty with every intention of charging into the room to help out his boss but the M.E. hastily grabbed his arm and tugged him back to face her.

"He's okay, Eric, it's just the two of them in there. They've been through a lot together in the past few days. Whatever it is," she finished with soft conviction, "Calleigh will look after him."

The young man shook his head doubtfully, trying to dispel images of a bewildered, hurting Horatio. He had never seen his boss quite so wounded or so vulnerable before and at some subconscious level he never would have suspected Eric found it bothered him horribly.

"Calleigh will take care of it," Alexx reassured him, seeing the struggle in the dark eyes, and he knew she was right. "Chairs," she reminded him gently.

"Coffee," he countered, somewhat more urgently.

Alexx grinned and hugged his arm before she let go and they headed off in opposite directions, both all ready anxious to be back.

_**hc/hc/hc**_

On the other side of the door Calleigh was doing exactly what Alexx had predicted -- taking care of Horatio. "I'm right here," she reassured him in a calm voice. "What's wrong?"

"I thought…I'm sorry, I thought you left, too." His eyes, bright with fever, locked on hers. "Please don't go," he begged hoarsely.

She stroked his hot forehead with cool fingers. "I'm not going anywhere, love."

"That's the third time you've called me that," he whispered and she smiled, not at all surprised to find that in spite of the pain and the shock and the drugs he remembered the exact words she had spoken, even in the recovery room.

"If you plan to keep count, Handsome, I hope your math skills are up to the challenge."

It was a lot for him to process along with everything else, she could tell he was struggling. "You mean…"

"I mean exactly what I said when I left you alone in that cold basement to go and get help. I'm never going to leave you again, Horatio." Calleigh pulled a chair as close as she could possibly get it and sat down, enclosing his hand in both of hers. "If that's okay with you."

He didn't say anything, he just kept looking into her eyes and she watched as all of the tension slowly drained out of him and left him limp. He sighed and his lashes fluttered as he fought to keep his eyelids up. Calleigh leaned over and tenderly kissed them shut. She pillowed her head happily on the bed beside him and felt the comforting weight of his arm as he curled it protectively around her shoulders. They drifted off to sleep in the very same instant…

…and in what seemed like the very next Calleigh jerked wide awake to the sound of his scream. Horatio sat bolt upright in bed, fingers scrabbling blindly at the gauze around his wrists as he viciously tried to rip it off.

"Horatio, be still!" she gasped. "You'll hurt yourself…"

"Oh, God," he moaned. "Oh, God. Calleigh, I've made a terrible mistake."

"Shhh. You must have had a nightmare, love," she soothed, the words automatic as she grabbed at his hands, trying in vain to keep him away from the bandages. "Please lay down, I'll call someone…"

_"No! I have to make sure!"_

Startled by the raw emotion in his voice she let go. Eric burst through the door to find his boss sitting up in bed feverishly stripping the bandages away from his wrists like a madman. Lengths of gauze were rapidly unraveling and blood dripped on the back one hand where the IV was starting to pull loose.

Eric's eyes flew from Horatio to Calleigh and he froze mid stride, shocked and wondering why on earth she wasn't moving to stop him. "Should I get somebody?" he whispered.

"Wait," she gasped, shaking her head. "Eric, he has to do this. I don't quite understand why, but somehow he has to." Calleigh reached out, managing to grab one of Horatio's hands.

"Stop, Horatio!" she told him firmly. "You're hurting yourself. Let us help you."

Eric crossed the room in two steps and got hold of the other arm, restraining his boss gently. "Easy there, H. Watch that IV."

"Oh, God. Eric." Horatio seemed to calm down somewhat at the sound of the younger man's voice. "I have to look at my wrists. I have to be sure."

"Okay. We'll help you get there, H." Eric's calm, reasoning voice reached through the panic and Horatio's eyes went from desperate to bewildered in a single blink. He quit struggling.

"Just lay back, please, love," Calleigh whispered, and they breathed a joint sigh of relief when Horatio cooperated. Eric quickly checked the IV and stuck the tape back down in a temporary fix while Calleigh immediately began unwinding gauze from one wrist. After a moment's hesitation Eric reluctantly started in on the other one.

"Careful," Calleigh warned him under her breath, "let's not do any more damage, even superficially, if we can help it." She raised her voice as Horatio started to sit up. "We're not there yet, Horatio. Hold still, I'll raise the bed in a minute."

Eric grimaced, hesitating as he came to the last section of gauze where dried blood had stuck to the bandages. He could see dark red fingers of infection now, reaching out angrily under Horatio's skin in all directions.

Calleigh bent across the bed to help. Eric's mouth went dry as she teased the last strip free and he found himself staring at a wide crisscross pattern of angry red welts and what seemed like a hundred tiny knots jutting up roughly where sutures closed the deeper cuts. Droplets of bright blood sprang up around the knots where the gauze had caught and there were places where no skin at all was left, just raw tissue barely scraped across bone.

Earlier, in the waiting room, Eric had listened to Calleigh skip briefly over this part of her story. He recalled a mere mention of unwinding some wire from Horatio's wrists, nothing about extricating what must have been yards of the stuff from deep in his flesh. Eric resisted a sudden urge to throw up.

Calleigh, meanwhile, had calmly gone back to work on her side. As far as she was concerned Horatio's wrists looked infinitely better than the last time she'd seen them, in spite of the infection. She made short work of the remaining bandages and reached down to press the lever that elevated the head of the bed.

"Okay, love. There you go."

Slowly, almost reluctant now that the bandages were actually gone, Horatio raised his wrists up in front of his face. Instant tears sprang to his eyes.

"Oh, God," he whispered, his worst fear now a fact.

"Horatio, what is it?" Calleigh asked, gently stroking his back.

"I made a mistake." She could barely make out the throaty, whispered words. "A horrible mistake."

"What mistake? Horatio, I don't understand. You're the victim, here, what could you possibly have done?"

"I lied. Under oath. But I honestly thought…" He dropped his hands and raised tortured eyes to Calleigh's face. "It's so obvious now. Shaun was left handed."

The blonde shook her head, a glance at Eric confirming he was just as much at a loss as she herself was. "If you're thinking you didn't have to kill your uncle," she ventured, "it's not true, Horatio. You didn't have a choice. He was going to…"

"No! That's not it. Look at my wrists," he begged. "Eric, see the way the wire was wrapped around? I'll never get it out of my head, it's exactly the same as when I was little. Amery used a lot more wire this time but the pattern's identical."

"Of course it is, H," Eric agreed, trying to be delicate and not ruffle any fevered feathers. "The same person would tend to do it the same way every time." Concerned he caught Calleigh's eye and raised a questioning eyebrow in the direction of the call button that would summon a nurse.

"Mum was different."

Three broken words fit into place and the two CSIs put the rest of the pieces together in an instant.

"The wires on her wrists weren't wound like these were," Horatio whispered into their silence. "Why didn't I see that then? Whoever killed my mother was left handed. Amery isn't."

"Oh, Horatio." Calleigh rested her arms carefully around his swollen shoulders and wished she could hug him, hard. Why this, now, on top of everything else? It was so unfair.

"No one else would have noticed something like that either," Eric did his best to comfort his boss. "Not in that situation. You weren't a CSI then, you were a teenager, you saw the same kind of wire…"

"Eric, I swore to that jury that Amery killed my mother and he didn't. Shaun did." He shrugged his shoulders free of Calleigh's light embrace and grabbed the sheet, leaving a trail of blood from his wrist as he pulled it aside. "I have to find my father. Somehow I have to make this right."

"Horatio, you're in no condition to get up," Calleigh said firmly, blocking him as he started to swing his legs off the bed. "Eric, make him listen. Sit on him if you have to."

"Calleigh's right, H. Wolfe and I will handle it, we'll find him," Eric reassured his boss, hoping he wouldn't need to resort to Calleigh's latter suggestion.

"I need to help," Horatio insisted stubbornly. "I have to see him."

"Be careful what you wish for, boy, it might just come true."

Calleigh jerked her head sharply towards the unexpected voice and this time there was no doubt at all in her mind about who was standing just inside the door. _This_ was Horatio's father.


	13. Father and Son

**_CHAPTER THIRTEEN_**

_**Father and Son**_

Father and son were physically similar, same hair, same mouth, same build. Amery Caine stood just slightly stooped in deference to his age and his face was lined with extra time. Both things were rather dignified, graceful almost, on that body so much like Horatio's. This is what he'll look like in twenty odd years, Calleigh realized, not at all dismayed by the thought.

A semi automatic pistol edged in Eric's direction as Amery correctly determined who in the room was armed. _Beretta Steel-I,_ Calleigh noted automatically as light glinted off the weapon's satin polish finish. _Very nice._

The older version of Horatio took another step into the room and Calleigh started to see differences, eyes that reflected rather than revealed, a slight tremour in Amery's hands that had nothing to do with age, a coldness when he lifted a corner of his lip.

"So where's that apology, boy?"

The harsh voice disintegrated the last of the romantic image. Calleigh tossed her hair defiantly behind one shoulder as she lightly touched Horatio's arm. "You don't owe him anything," she whispered, thinking of a little red haired boy in the dark, his wrists stinging and bloody. "He deserves everything he got and more."

Horatio slid out of bed, placing himself directly between Calleigh and his father's Beretta.

"He didn't deserve to go to prison for killing my mother, Cal." Horatio faced his father squarely. "Sir, I'm sorry. I honestly thought…"

"Don't bother. You think too much, boy."

From the corner of one eye Horatio detected the slight waver of Eric debating whether or not to go for his weapon. "Whoa," he breathed, "don't do it."

With a sigh of frustration Eric eased his hand back.

"No, no, go ahead. Take it out of the holster," Amery grated. "Slowly, with two fingers. Lay it on the foot of the bed and back away."

"Just like he says, Eric." Horatio flicked his eyes sideways to watch as the younger man complied. After Eric backed off Amery cautiously reached over and picked up the weapon, slipping it into the pocket of his suit jacket. The Beretta edged sideways and Horatio visibly relaxed. It was pointed at him now instead of Eric.

"That's right, Dad. This has nothing to do with them. Let me put on some clothes and I'll go with you. Right now, no fuss, wherever you want."

"Horatio…"

"Calleigh." Just her name, spoken softly, and she knew absolutely that _nothing_ would change Horatio's mind. Calmly he reached for the IV line and Calleigh flinched, knowing what was coming. The tape was barely holding and the needle was all ready half way out. A sharp tug finished the job.

"The closet's over there." Horatio indicated the narrow door with a flick of his eyes. "Can I get dressed, Dad? Please?"

A little boy, begging for permission, pulling his father back to the past and away from the present. Calleigh got ready to move when Horatio did, knowing full well there wasn't a stitch of clothing in the closet and that whatever idiotic plan he had in his head she would back him up and so would Eric, whether he wanted them to or not.

A small liquid plop of sound drew everyone's eyes down to the floor where a single drop of blood had dripped from the tip of Horatio's finger onto the linoleum. A second one followed it, then a third, and Amery smiled vaguely as his gaze wandered over Horatio's unbandaged wrists.

"Do those hurt at all, son?"

The half-growl, half-humourless-chuckle deep in Horatio's throat nearly broke Calleigh's heart.

"My, my, you're a brave one, aren't you?" she spat out at Amery. Calleigh knew she was breaking the spell Horatio had worked so hard to create and she didn't give a damn. "Well you better take a look around, old man. He's not a little boy anymore, and he's not alone. You are. Your brother's gone and you'll have to go through both of us before we let him go anywhere with you." Calleigh edged sideways just a bit from in behind Horatio and glanced at Eric on the other side of the room.

Horatio ground his teeth and growled softly, this time at her. Quickly he changed tactics to match before Eric got involved and all hell broke loose.

"She's right, you know. You're a coward, Amery. All this time I thought you killed Mum but you didn't even have the guts to do that, did you? Shaun had to do it for you." Horatio took two sudden strides forward into the Beretta and Calleigh sucked in a sharp breath.

"Got the guts to shoot?"

Horatio flowed, smooth as silk. Before anyone could blink Amery was disarmed, grunting from the pain of an arm twisted at the elbow and pressured into his back.

"I didn't think so," Horatio whispered into his ear.

The Beretta clattered on the floor and Eric had it in his hand before the noise quit, curling his lip as he leveled the weapon at Amery's chest. "I got him, H. Nice move."

Horatio released his grip. Stepping to the side he gingerly reached into his father's suit pocket and removed Eric's nine mil. Two weapons were trained on Amery now, one rock steady, one wavering ever so slightly.

A spot of blood appeared on the front of Horatio's hospital gown and grew rapidly. Calleigh quietly walked up to him and gently pried the weapon from his hand, passing it grip first back to Eric. Horatio glanced down at the blood in confusion, then at Calleigh, blinked and lost his focus. She eased into him and put an arm around his waist before he did something else that was stupid, like a face plant on the lino.

Eric kept his eyes locked on Amery but there was more than enough blood for peripheral vision to pick up on. "Cal?" he asked sharply.

"It's okay, I can manage. Just get him the hell out of here!"

Calleigh heard Eric shout for help as he hustled Amery into the hallway but she had her hands full with Horatio who sagged against her with a faint groan. The door, which hadn't swung all the way shut yet, banged wide open as Alexx hit it with her shoulder and rushed into the room.

Calleigh staggered and the M.E. hurried to help her. Between them the two women managed to get a heavily bleeding Horatio over to the bed and lying down. Calleigh clung to his hand for dear life but moved to one side, giving Alexx room to work. The M.E. checked Horatio's pulse and his pupils, then applied pressure to his chest, her face bleak.

Horatio moaned in protest, tired of hurting, too tired to hide it.

"I know, honey," Alexx crooned, face crumpling, hands firm. "I know it hurts. I'm sorry."

He sighed and looked past her, searching for Calleigh. "Thank God I didn't kill him, Cal," was all he got out before he lost consciousness.

_**hc/hc/hc**_

Horatio went back into surgery a second time to repair the newly inflicted damage. It was a setback but one that Calleigh was content to live with. It was finally over, he was safe and they could take their time now. He desperately needed to heal, in more ways than one, and when Calleigh thought about it clearly after her first few hours of sleep she realized that she did, too.

Horatio was strangely silent when he woke up and Calleigh simply let him be that way. She was always there, her fingers in his hair or her hand holding his, but she recognized his need for some private space to think in and she gave it to him, making sure everyone else respected those boundaries as well.

The physical end of things was another story, and there Calleigh did everything in her power to ease him. Although he never complained she could tell the slightest movement that strained the area around the knife wound was excruciating. Calleigh immediately requested a PCA pump with a morphine drip and both Dr. Swain and Alexx noticed that the button controlling it was always strategically located next to Calleigh's hand, not Horatio's. As far as the medical profession was concerned that was generally a bad idea but in this case neither of them had cause for complaint. Calleigh administered the morphine judiciously, never much and never until a certain shadow far back in the blue eyes told her it was time.

Guest Services offered a respite room which, in spite of Alexx's urging, Calleigh categorically refused to accept. A promise was a promise and in her mind staying with Horatio forever didn't mean in a nice room in another building on the other side of a busy Orlando street. She also politely turned down Alexx's offer to buy her something to wear besides the scrubs that the hospital had loaned her. Something fresh and deep and peaceful in Calleigh's eyes stilled her friend's objections before they ever left her lips.

"I'm perfectly fine," she assured Alexx, and she was. The M.E. did bring a tooth brush and a comb which Calleigh accepted gladly, and both Eric and Ryan were always popping in with little non-cafeteria treats for her to eat. When Calleigh needed to freshen up she simply found a residents locker room and made herself at home, blithely changing into clean scrubs after her shower and tossing the old ones down a laundry chute. Horatio mentioned liking the blue ones best so she grabbed them first if there were some in the stack, otherwise settling for her personal favorite, green.

A few times, when a new nurse came on shift, she was told in no uncertain terms that visiting hours were over. Calleigh never argued, she just haunted another ward in her scrubs, chatting with the patients who happened to be in the hallways. Sometimes she helped by pushing them to the lounge in their wheelchairs or wheeling their awkward IV poles as they made their way to the bathroom. After awhile, when she figured the coast was clear, she took the emergency stairwell either up or down to the surgical floor and slipped quietly back into Horatio's room when no one was looking.

Whenever he rested so did she, sleeping on a chair with her head happily nestled beside him on the bed until the duty nurse with the gray curls who never once asked her to leave quietly arranged for a cot to be brought in. Dr. Swain never objected when he stopped by for a routine visit or on rounds and found her there. He spoke openly to both of them about Horatio's condition which was steadily, if slowly, improving.

Six days after the second surgery was a particularly warm and sunny morning in Orlando. Everyone else had gone home to Miami and as Calleigh gazed longingly out the window she heard Horatio stir restlessly behind her. He hadn't slept much at all the night before and she could tell he was getting extremely tired of being on his back all the time. His shoulders were better, he could sit up and eat one handed by himself and the IV was gone. He had gone for a few short walks and had regained enough upper body strength to roll himself over onto his side but the strain of staying that way made his chest muscles ache unbearably after only a few minutes.

An idea occurred to Calleigh and she hurried towards the bed. "Let's see if you can rest on your side with some support behind your back," she suggested. Horatio felt her ease under the sheets behind him. He rolled onto his side, relaxing against her warm body with a sigh of contentment as she snuggled close and spooned into a contour that matched his. They lay that way comfortably for a long time and Calleigh was certain Horatio had drifted off when suddenly he spoke.

"Cal, did you consider suicide? When you thought I was dead?"

The hospital wasn't stirring yet and it was very quiet in the early morning room. For a brief instant Horatio wondered if Calleigh had perhaps gone to sleep. A quick analysis of the tight, controlled breathing next to his ear told him she hadn't.

"Cal? Did you?" he prompted.

"Yes." A whisper of breath against his neck.

He felt like his heart would stop. "I don't ever want you to do that again."

Her arm tightened briefly around his waist. "I didn't know if I could live without you," she whispered. "And I made so many mistakes in the parkade, Horatio. When you almost quit breathing in the ambulance I knew if you died it would be all my fault. And then I thought you did and I couldn't stand it, knowing I killed you..."

"Calleigh, whoa. Wait a minute. What are you talking about, what mistakes?"

She clutched him, hard, and he flinched in silence, biting back the cry of pain. All the guilt came pouring out in a tortured torrent and Horatio just lay still and listened, letting it wash over him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, when she finally sobbed herself out. "Cal, I'm so sorry. It was just as much my fault as yours. Please don't blame yourself. I don't."

The now familiar touch of her fingertips ran through his hair, hesitating feather light over the still tender surgical site. "It's growing back," she reported, changing the subject, and he let her.

"Thank God for small favours," he grumbled. "If you know a good hair dresser maybe we can get the rest cut to match. I used to look good in a crew cut."

Calleigh didn't giggle like he'd hoped she would but the tension eased and she gradually relaxed against him. "Can I ask you something, love?" she wondered after a long time.

"You know you can."

"Did he…your father…did he ever…oh, damn it, Horatio, I just keep seeing that hook over and over again and thinking about you as a little boy…"

"Shhh, it's okay, Cal. He never did, he just talked about it and then he'd lose his nerve and lock me in the closet instead. Shaun's the one who had the guts to finally do it. At least he waited until I was old enough to handle it." There was a brief pause and a shudder. "I think."

She didn't say anything, just hugged him. It was strange but this time when her arms tightened around him it didn't hurt at all.

"You know," he went on thoughtfully, "when I came at Shaun from behind with the knife he had the Glock in his left hand. I can see it so very clearly now, every time I close my eyes. I noticed what kind of gun it was, for God's sake, I should have noticed what hand he was holding it in. I should have realized he wasn't my father."

"Horatio, that wouldn't have changed anything."

"I suppose not." Horatio sighed. "God, it's all so complicated."

"It doesn't have to be, love. Just quit blaming yourself for things that aren't your fault…"

He chucked and her voice trailed off as she realized what she'd just said. Calleigh felt an irresistible urge to swat him and she did, although not nearly as hard as she would have liked.

"You know, come to think of it," she protested, "why I'm letting you off so easy after that damn stupid stunt _you_ pulled?"

"Which one?" he asked innocently, hoping to defuse her. It didn't work.

"You have a point there, it is quite the list," Calleigh grumbled, "but somehow yanking the knife out of your chest comes to mind. Do you have any idea how angry I am with you for doing that? It's going to take a hell of a long time and a hell of a lot of work to convince me to forgive you for that one. Maybe you should start now."

"I'd like to." Horatio opened his eyes. "Cal, can we go home?"

Calleigh lifted her head slightly. "What, you mean now?"

"I mean right now, this very minute. Can we?"

She lay her head back down again so he wouldn't see her smile. Having anticipated the question she was, for once, way ahead of him, having all ready spoken with Dr. Swain about this very subject the night before.

"I don't see why not," she surprised him with an answer instead of an argument. Horatio propped himself up on an elbow and Calleigh sat up quickly before he did something painful to himself trying to get a look at her.

"Did I hear you correctly, Miss Duquesne?" he asked with a hint of playfulness.

"You did, sir. Let's do it." Calleigh laughed excitedly as she hopped off the bed and made quick work of gathering up the few things they had accumulated while Horatio concentrated on the tedious task of getting himself slowly mobile. He paused for a moment to catch his breath, watching with pleasure as she moved around the small room, tidying it efficiently. With a start he realized that the scrubs were gone and Calleigh was fully dressed. He had no idea how the hell he could have missed that pair of white jeans for this long but it didn't say much at all for his powers of observation.

"Did you know something I didn't?" he wondered and observed with delight as the smile broke forth and filled the room, vying for brightness with the sunshine streaming in the window and winning hands down. Now that would be impossible to miss.

Calleigh took a hanger from the closet and handed him a small, neatly folded pile of clothing. "Can you manage?" she asked and he nodded, still speechless in the aftermath of the smile.

"Then I'll go and arrange for the paperwork while you dress," she told him with a quick kiss. "I hope they fit."

They did indeed fit, at least if Calleigh's appraising glance when she got back was any indication. He signed the papers she handed him without reading them and didn't offer a single word of argument when Calleigh scooped up the small bag that held their few possessions and waved him into the wheelchair that had magically appeared outside in the hallway. There was another surprise waiting in the parkade, a spotlessly clean Miami Dade PD Hummer, the interior detailed to perfection.

"They took a rental back and left the Hummer for us," Calleigh answered his quizzical look as she gave him a hand getting up on the running board and returned the wheelchair to the smiling nurse's aide who had accompanied them. "We all thought you'd be more comfortable with the extra room." She cupped his elbow, hovering like a nervous hummingbird as he eased himself gingerly onto the seat.

"Okay?" she asked solicitously, reaching across to help him with the seat belt.

"Cal, I won't break. I'm just a little sore."

"Right. I know that." Calleigh closed the heavy door for him and ran around the front of Hummer, climbing happily behind the wheel and backing them neatly out of the tight parking stall. As she maneuvered through the cramped lanes to the parkade exit Horatio couldn't help thinking how tiny her slender body looked in contrast with the powerful machine so completely and competently under her control. Much like when she held a gun, he mused, only then the feeling that swept over him was even more intense. Sexy is what it was, at least in his book. Just plain sexy.

Leaning forward Calleigh checked traffic before pulling across the sidewalk onto the busy Orlando street. Out of habit Horatio did too, regretting it the instant he mirrored her movement. Calleigh saw the grimace as the seat belt pulled across his chest and sent him a sharp reminder that he was merely a passenger and should behave himself accordingly. Stifling a groan he gingerly undid the belt and let it retract.

"Maybe this was a bad idea," she ventured, wincing in sympathy as she merged the Hummer into traffic. "We could have flown."

"Calleigh, you worry too much. Just drive," he told her with a wide smile as he leaned his head back on the leather headrest and let his eyes fall shut. "I feel better all ready."

They left the snarl of Orlando behind them and were on the turnpike headed for Miami with the windows open and the humid air blowing through the vehicle when he lifted his head again, feeling peaceful.

"Cal, I don't want to go home right away. Is that okay?"

"Is by me, love, although I really think you should rest." She took her eyes off the road for a moment and eyed him critically. "If you don't mind my saying so, you're looking a little green around the gills. I hope it's not my driving."

He smiled gently. "There's a place that always makes me feel better. I'd like to take you there."

"Okay, only I'll take you. Just give me directions."

"We've got a ways to go yet. Take the South Turnpike towards Homestead and wake me up before we hit #1." He yawned and closed his eyes, then immediately opened them. "You won't fall asleep at the wheel if I…"

"Horatio, go to sleep," she ordered, laughing, and three hours later she woke him up, just short of the #1 South off ramp.

"Key Largo?" she asked and he nodded, stretching cautiously as she lane changed smoothly for the next exit. He glanced in passing at the dashboard clock, then back again.

"Calleigh," he said sternly, "how fast have we been going?"

She shrugged, grinning innocently. "I used the lights but I was afraid the siren would wake you. Sleep well?"

Horatio grinned back. "Better than in the hospital, but I can't wait for my own bed tonight." He paused awkwardly for a moment. "Is that okay with you? My place, I mean."

"You bet," she said easily. "Mine's still pretty much a crime scene in my head although Eric says they've cleaned it up. I'm in no rush to go back other than for some clothes and stuff."

"Okay. Good, that's good. Go left on Ocean Bay," he directed and several minutes later Calleigh pulled up in front of a bright blue and white building.

"Is this the place?" she wondered, smiling curiously. The sign mentioned dolphins but other than that she had no idea where they were or what they were doing.

"Yep. You'll love it. Come on." Suddenly full of enthusiasm Horatio meant to jump out, run around to her side, open the door and give her his hand as she stepped off the Hummer's running board. In actual fact he was still struggling with the unwieldy passenger door when she arrived, grinning, to rescue him. Once his feet were firmly planted on pavement, however, Horatio seemed to know where he was going and his steps quickened as they walked around to the back of the building. Calleigh heard the sound of lapping water and dolphins chattering.

"They run a therapy program here for sick kids to come and swim with the dolphins," he explained, steering her towards a bench some distance from the water. They sat down companionably close together and held hands, watching a couple of bottle nose dolphins playfully chase each other around a small pond.

After a little while a small boy in swim trunks and a safety vest pelted out of the building and down the floating ramp. A woman in a bathing suit hurried after him on intercept course, barely catching up in time to help the child into the water. The dolphins approached immediately, gently touching the small swimmer with their snouts and squirting him with water. A peel of childish laughter made Calleigh grin.

"That's Benjamin," Horatio told her, "and his therapist, Mollie."

Benjamin had red hair, too. Even from a distance he was a beautiful little boy, creamy skin, freckles and an infectious laugh. Calleigh watched him for awhile and then she watched Horatio instead, basking in the joy that lit up his face as Benjamin held onto the dolphin's fin and got a slow ride around the pool.

"Some of them have cerebral palsy or MS and their muscles need the exercise to keep from deteriorating any further," he explained, his eyes still focused on the distant child. "Others have incurable cancer, they've gone through surgery and chemotherapy and they're dying anyway but they come because they love it and it makes them laugh. The dolphins always seem to know which children those are and they're especially gentle. And some of the kids are simply getting stronger, they've been sick for a long time but they're on the road to recovery."

They watched Benjamin splash for awhile longer until Calleigh came up with the courage to ask. "Is he dying or getting better?"

Horatio smiled. "He's getting better."

When the session was over Mollie lifted a protesting Benjamin out of the water and handed him a towel, but before any drying took place he spotted the spectators on the bench and took off with a squeal of delight, heading straight for Horatio. The therapist shaded her eyes to see who it was and gave them a wave.

Calleigh waved back and a tender smile touched her face as Horatio opened his arms and absorbed the shock of the small running body into his. She knew it must have hurt but there was no outward sign of any pain. As he folded his arms around Benjamin and looked at her over top of the wet, red head all she saw was peace in his eyes at the very start of the journey back to being whole.

_**FIN**_

_Final hugs and heartfelt thanks to all of you, your reviews and PMs have been my life and my lifeline as I wrote Parkade. Please don't stop now, I would love a last word from each and every one of you. A sincere thank you to my beta Corine on the other side of that very big ocean._


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